Honour Thy Blood - Remastered
by TheBlack'sResurgence
Summary: A remastered version of the original. Literary and Grammar errors fixed, making the story much more palatable. Rated M for a reason. No slash, HP/DG pairing with an independent Harry. See original for description.
1. Defiance

**A/N**

**Hello All,**

**I recently reread the original of this and was astounded at the amount of literary and grammatical errors I found. It's a wonder how any could stomach it. After shaking my head for some time, I decided that I would have to remaster it, so that is what I am doing.**

**The plot will be the same as will the major events. The story is merely undergoing a good going over to polish up the grammar and add a little more substance where necessary. The original will remain as is. It was my first completed story and I am still very proud of it but now my writing has developed exponentially and I want to do the idea justice, so here we are.**

**Anyway, please do follow, favourite and review this as you all did the first and please do point out any errors that you see.**

**Thank you all and I hope you enjoy this just as much the second time around if you choose to read it.**

**TBR**

Honour Thy Blood - Remastered

Chapter 1: Defiance

For most, it would be discernible but for those who knew him intimately, the veiled concern would be evident. The expected alert from the wards that a portkey had been used within the grounds had reached him moments ago and yet, there was no sign of a winning champion on the designated point of arrival. He had known for some time that a Hogwarts victory was assured as both champions from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had been rescued from the maze some fifteen minutes prior.

The pride in his champions had since given way to the concern that had befallen him and was quickly evolving into fear for their safety with each passing second, neither being accounted for though the cup had been claimed. The eternal twinkle in his eyes had dimmed considerably as he pondered the fate of both his students, each possible scenario as ludicrous but more sinister than the last. Pushing such thoughts aside, the only thing he could be certain of, was that something had gone awry

He turned his gaze towards the other judges and his own was met with four equal looks of confusion, all seeking the clarity that alluded he himself. All he had to offer was a shrug and shake of his head that only increased the unease that had settled amongst those situated at the table. Upon witnessing the countenance of the Hogwarts Headmaster, they too were now aware that something was gravely amiss. None present had ever found the man short of explanation. That itself was enough to further unsettle them, and with their own minds now occupied with speculation, they returned to their vigils, now only able to wait for what would come to fruition.

Albus turned his attention towards the perimeter of the maze where he knew Alastor would be patrolling, hoping for any sign that would alleviate the weight that was settling within him, but he could see no sign of the man, something that only served to peak his concern. Alastor, if anything, was a man that put his duty before all else; It had always been his way, to his own detriment. The scars he carried and the paranoia that plagued him could attest to such and his absence only added credence to the dawning realisation that something truly foreboding had occurred.

He stiffened and shot to his feet, pressing his palms into the top of the table to brace himself as an even deeper sense of fear seeped in.

"Moody," he whispered.

Ignoring the other judges that had once again turned to him, he allowed his thoughts to permeate, ultimately shutting out those around him. It was almost unfathomable that his old friend would orchestrate such a thing but the more he considered the possibility, the more things fell into place, though it offered no comfort to the aged man.

It was Moody that had placed the cup at the centre of the maze and had he found anything untoward with the Goblet, Dumbledore would have been the first to be made aware of it. Unless he was not acting of his own accord, or worse yet, was not Alastor Moody at all.

The previous school year suddenly flashed in front of his eyes and his heart almost stopped in his chest. Alastor had been late to the feast and he was never late. It was something that the militaristic nature being an auror had taught him.

Moody had avoided his company as much as possible this year and the two had been friends for decades. Although they spent little time together, each held the other in such esteem and would still meet occasionally to sup or simply share a drink.

The musings that followed cemented his newfound belief and the Headmaster shook his head as a new concern made itself known.

It was Moody that had investigated the anomaly that was Harry's name being chosen by the cup in the first instant and his conclusions had been rather lacking. The Moody Dumbledore knew would not have ceased looking until he figured it out.

His final thought resigned him to only one possibility, as unlikely as it was, it explained everything and the man could only chastise himself for the oversight. Such inane and easily dismissible things singularly when thought upon culminated into the one outcome left, the several conversations with his Potions Master over the past months verifying what he hoped was merely a fruitless theory.

Severus had been adamant that suspicious ingredients had been going missing from his stores; Boomslang skin, lacewing flies… He was now fully aware of how foolish he had been and now his laxity may have cost the lives of two of his students. He had simply dismissed Moody's behaviour as eccentricity and his desire for privacy in his later years. For that, he truly was the fool.

Sighing, he signalled for his Deputy to join him and watched as she approached, confused and then equally worried when she saw his expression.

"Minerva, where is Alastor?" he asked, the calmness in his voice contrary to the torrent of emotions he was experiencing.

"He took Mr Krum to the medical tent when he was brought out of the maze" she replied immediately.

Before she could question him, Dumbledore was already moving quickly towards the tent, so she followed him wanting to know what had flustered the usually calm Headmaster. When he reached the tent there was no sign of Moody and Madame Pomfrey was treating Fleur Delacour for the variety of cuts and bruises she had sustained in the maze. Before he could utter a word to the strict nurse cut him off.

"Albus, it appears that Mr Krum has been placed under the Imperius Curse and is very confused. He has no memory of being in the maze" she explained, concerned for the Bulgarian.

Dumbledore's eyes shifted towards Krum and the tell-tale glazed look in the man's own was clear to see. He strode towards him purposefully, waving his wand in an intricate pattern muttering under his breath and found more than he expected when his brief machinations were complete. He had indeed been placed under the curse but was now free of it and his memory had been wiped. Little to nothing could be gleaned from the Durmstrang Champion.

"Poppy, where did Alastor go when he left the tent" he asked the Matron with a hint of urgency in his voice.

She frowned at Dumbledore in confusion but shook herself from her momentary lapse to reply. "He said he was going back to the maze to wait for the other champions. Albus, what is going on?" she questioned with her hands on her hips, back to her usual no-nonsense self.

"Please Poppy, remain here and tend to your patients" he responded sharply before exiting the tent.

The two women shared a look of exasperation as the latter shook her head and left to follow the man.

Dumbledore, upon leaving the tent, made his way towards the castle now irrevocably convinced of what had happened. Simply put, he had been duped and now two of his students and a friend's life hung in the balance.

He knew the real Alastor had to be close by, he would be needed for the vital ingredient to pull of such a plan.

He quickened his pace knowing that he needed to act in a timely manner, the fear within him giving way to a cold fury, a fury he hadn't felt in decades. His eyes darkened and narrowed behind his half-moon spectacles and he could feel his magic react to his emotional state, it was boiling under the surface and leaking around him; his anger was palpable.

Minerva could feel it radiating off him and rushed to catch up to her long-time friend now knowing that something was very wrong indeed for Albus to lose his composure in such a way. Before she could enquire, he spoke in a dangerously low voice.

"Fetch Severus, tell him to get some Veritaserum and bring him to Moody's office." he instructed the transfiguration Professor firmly.

She stopped dead in her tracks at the unfamiliar tone of his voice. This was no longer the docile, lemon drop eating, strange humoured headmaster everyone had become accustomed to. This was the man that had saved the wizarding world from Grindelwald all those years ago, the man that all would be Dark Lords had feared since. She shivered at the fury she could sense but hurried away nonetheless to carry out his request.

Dumbledore entered the castle and made his way to the fourth floor, his wand gripped tightly in anticipation for the coming confrontation. He reached the door he sought and steeled himself, taking a deep breath. He could hear muffled voices beyond and before he could comprehend his own actions, he had already given his wand a sharp flick, sending a blasting curse at the obstacle before him.

The door exploded inwards in a cloud of splintered wood and metal hinges. When the resulting smoke and haze cleared, he entered the room to find whom he had believed to be Alastor Moody unconscious on the floor next to his open trunk in the corner of the office. He quickly bound the unmoving form and fixed him to the wall with a simple sticking charm.

A raspy, faint cough coming from the open trunk caught his attention and he tentatively made his way over, his wand aloft and ready to defend himself if necessary. Looking down into the depths he could see a very thin and dishevelled man; the real Alastor Moody, devoid of his infamous magical eye and prosthetic leg.

"The bastards got the jump on me, Albus. Crouch, Pettigrew and some weird baby thing." he said, somewhat lucid but disorientated after his ordeal.

"Crouch?" Dumbledore asked, "Barty Crouch"?

"Junior, Albus. That's the shit up there with you now with my eye and damned leg," Moody growled furiously.

Dumbledore could only shake his head.

"Quite the elaborate ploy," he muttered. "Minerva and Severus are on their way here now, Alastor. We will have you out of there in a moment" he replied, relieved that his friend was at least alive although a little worse for wear.

Whilst he waited for the appearance of his colleagues, he turned to face the imposter only to be met with the sight of a man he thought dead for many years. The leg and eye belonging to Alastor had fallen to the floor as the man had taken his natural form, the form of Bartemius Crouch Junior. He looked to be considerably older than his years. His sandy brown hair was streaked generously with grey and the lines and wrinkles in the face and around the eyes told a story of an exceedingly difficult time in Azkaban.

He was roused from his observations by a sharp intake of breath coming from the doorway behind him. Turning, he saw the looks of surprise on the face of the usually stoic Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall.

"Is that...?" McGonagall began only to be interrupted by Dumbledore.

"Yes, I'm afraid it is" he cut in. "Minerva, Alastor is in the trunk and in need of medical attention, please help him to Madame Pomfrey. Severus and I will handle this," he finished, waving his hand towards the trunk without taking his eyes of the incapacitated man bound to the wall.

Minerva pursed her lips and went about her task knowing that it was not the time to protest or question the headmaster further. She fetched the discarded eye and leg from the floor and levitated the real Moody from the trunk. She exited with the still grumbling ex auror leaving Dumbledore and Snape alone with the whom she could only assume was now their prisoner.

Severus moved to stand next to the Headmaster, rolling up his left sleeve as he did so, revealing a very prominent tattoo on his forearm that Dumbledore looked upon tiredly and sighed deeply. He rubbed his eyes beneath his spectacles as his former spy spoke.

"Does this mean what I think it means?" the potions professor asked with an air of apprehension in his voice.

It was clear that although he was trying his best to remain calm, he was more than a little nervous knowing what would be asked of him.

"I fear it is, my boy," Dumbledore replied, looking every year he had lived and equally saddened. "Young Harry and Cedric are yet to return from the maze and the portkey warning alerted me to the cup being claimed close to an hour ago now."

"And you think that the Dark Lord may have them," Severus stated no longer seeming nervous but slightly bitter at the mention of the Potter boy.

Dumbledore sighed again with slight exasperation knowing that his potions master had no lost love for Harry.

"Based on his past history at this school it would seem that it is a fair assumption to make" He replied, keeping his frustration towards Severus and his views on Harry to a minimum. Now was not the time to dwell on it.

Snape curled his lip in a sign of distaste.

"Ahh yes, the boy's history at school, which you insist in not sharing, Albus, not even with the staff here" he retorted in a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

"They are not my stories to tell, Severus, as I have said time and time again" Albus returned irritably, having had this argument several times with several members of staff. "Suffice to say, Harry is a very remarkable and gifted young man and if you could see beyond your petty differences with his relatives, you may see it yourself. Despite what you think, Harry seeks neither fame nor glory for his feats but I daresay if he did, he would be much more revered and reviled in our world than he ever has been. All he wants is to be normal, Severus, and yet society will never allow that," he murmured sadly. "However, now is not the time to discuss Mr Potter and his many achievements, please administer the Veritaserum to our guest so that we may see what we can learn from him".

Severus knew a closed discussion when he heard one but it did not stop him feeling agitated towards the headmaster and his aloofness when it came to Potter.

He stepped forward and angled the vial of potion to allow the required three drops to fall into the already open mouth of Crouch Jr. He stepped back drawing his wand from his sleeve and with a muttered _'Enervate'_, the unconscious man began to stir, his eyelashes fluttering open to reveal his glazed blue eyes, showing that the potion had taken affect.

Without hesitation Dumbledore stepped forward and began his questioning.

"What is your name" He asked calmly, not displaying the worry he felt.

"Bartemius Crouch Jr," came the monotonous reply.

"Where are Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory?" Dumbledore pressed; his voice now laced with a small amount of urgency.

"If the portkey worked as intended, they would have been taken to Riddle Manor in Little Hangelton," Crouch replied with a cruel smile.

Dumbledore was truly shaken now.

"Severus, get any and all information you can from him then send for Amelia Bones directly and tell her to bring only Aurors she trusts implicitly. I will return as soon as I can," he assured the man, internally requesting for the assistance he required.

With a final look of disgust towards Crouch Jr, he disappeared in a flash of fire leaving behind a confused potions professor, annoyed that the headmaster had departed before he could open his mouth to speak. Severus scowled at the space where Dumbledore had only seconds ago been occupying but turned to further question the only remaining man in the room.

He knew that tonight was going to be a long night and the coming months, years even, longer so.

(BREAK)

Harry Potter found himself on his knees clutching the smoking remains of his wand, aware that his short and less than stellar existence was coming to an end.

He had taken his parents instruction and tried to run for the cup that would return him back to the safety of the castle and away from this hellish nightmare. It was not to be, however. His leg bitten by the Acromantula had given out mere feet away from the Goblet and as he raised his wand to summon it to him, it had been struck by an errant spell. All that remained was a smouldering slither of wood with a bright red feather protruding from the end, still smoking from its destruction. Despite its demise and now useless state, he clung to it dearly.

He was exhausted, breathing heavily and quite severely injured. He looked at the colder growing corpse of Cedric with an inordinate amount of sorrow.

He replayed his parent's voices over once more in his mind. Hearing the love they had for him in their own words had given him his final burst of energy to make his escape but alas, it was not enough to overcome the physical trauma he had been subjected to. The bite, the several torture curses, the exhausting duel with Voldemort and the blood loss from the dagger wound given to him by Pettigrew had resulted in him being in this position.

Now he knew that all he had left to do was face his inevitable death and he refused to die on his knees, cowering at the feet of the man who had murdered his parents. Tom Riddle, the man who had mercilessly taken the life of both his mother and father was stood only a few dozen yards away. The reason he had been raised by the Dursleys, the reason he had had a miserable existence the reason he found himself how and where he was now.

He would not die on his knees; he would look the man in the eye the same way his father had and defy him to the last second just as his mother had.

There was nothing left to take from Harry Potter except his dignity and under no circumstances would he surrender that to those who had already taken everything he held in his heart away from him.

Such thoughts filled him with a rage he had never thought possible, it coursed through his very veins like molten lava. How dare Tom Riddle trick and trap him the way he had and only try to duel him when he was already wounded?

He shook as he chuckled in realisation in that moment.

Tom Riddle was nothing but an opportunist; he really was the epitome of Slytherin through and through. The Death Eaters in front of him mistook his shaking for fear but could not see the emerald fire that danced dangerously in the young man's eyes. For that was what he was and always had been. Childhood was something that had been denied to him after all. They were very much taken aback when they heard his laughter and saw him stand on shaky legs to face the Dark Lord, despite the fact he was unarmed.

His leg was quivering violently under his weight but he knew this was his defining moment. He would make sure that Tom Riddle would never forget that the last Potter stood before him in his final moment, as defiant as the last two that he had faced.

He laughed again when he saw both, the look of confusion and grudging respect on the face of Riddle. He spat out the blood that had formed in his mouth and returned to staring his adversary in the eye just waiting for the end that he knew was to come.

Voldemort looked upon the boy in front of him amazed that he had the ability and the fortitude to face him the way that he was. He could not help but admire the final stand that Potter was making. In this moment, he caught a glimpse of the man that he would become and he felt a shiver make its way up his spine at the thought of that coming to pass.

He knew one day that Potter could have been his downfall and he knew that he had been fortunate in his plan to bring him here and end it now before he could become a real threat.

Knowing now that there was no way for the boy to escape, he allowed his wand to hang loosely at his side before addressing his foe.

"I'm find myself impressed, Potter," he conceded. "You have finally shown me why you have been considered my biggest threat all these years, I see the anger in your eyes, the desire for vengeance, you would have been quite the rival had you lived that long," he finished with a slight bow.

The Death Eaters around him appeared confused, surprised that the Dark Lord just praised a half-blood and a child. Even more so that he just claimed that this boy was his biggest threat. They themselves believed that Potter had gotten lucky thirteen years ago and that he had been nothing more than a setback in the Dark Lord's plans. They could not see the potential that Potter had. As far as they knew he was not a remarkable wizard and was not overtly talented.

Lucius Malfoy in particular was very confused. He had had his son watch Potter from day one and by all accounts, Potter had proven to be mediocre at best. Had his son missed something? Or had he simply let his jealousy cloud his judgement of the young man stood in front of him?

He looked into Potter's eyes and saw the fire that burned within them, a bright emerald fire that he would not forget resided there and it made him feel uneasy. He swallowed back his unease with an audible gulp and looked back towards his master to see the grudging respect etched on his face. There was something about Potter that he was wary of and Lucius Malfoy detested being wary.

"I offered you the chance to stand by my side in your first year at Hogwarts Harry, do you remember? Of course you do. You foolishly turned down my offer, but I stand by what I said, you would have been great, together we could have been greater still," he stated, ignoring his followers around him. "But Lord Voldemort only offers his hand once Harry, you refused and now you die a pointless death for nothing," he spat.

Before he could raise his wand, the young man dared to laugh at him again and Voldemort thought for a second that he had simply gone insane from his exposure to the torture he had endured.

Harry found himself amused by the speech. He himself wasn't sure if he had lost his mind. All he knew was that he was no longer scared. On the contrary, he was now looking forward to it all being over. There would be no more pain and no more fear. He would finally be reunited with his parents, the one thing he had always desired above all else.

He had dreamed that he could bring them back and they could live happily together as they should have been able to but he had long since given up on that dream of folly and childish wishes and had resigned himself to the fact he would have to wait until his end before he could see them again.

Having faced the threats he had; he knew his luck would eventually run out but he did not expect his time would come to a close so soon. But now he accepted it had and the prospect of being with his family had made him quite impatient for it all to finally be over.

He gave a final laugh before looking at Riddle critically one final time. The anger he felt was pulsing through him but he composed himself, he would show no more weakness.

"You're right Tom, I did refuse you then and would now," he ground out, deeply satisfied with the the anger he could see in Voldemort's eyes at the casual use of his given name. "You're a coward Riddle, attacking people in the dead of night, torturing harmless innocent wizards, witches and muggles. I would rather die a thousand times than join you, I doubt you have had an honest fight in your life," he continued, his anger showing in his voice. "Yes, you'll kill me but there will always be people who will stand against you and one day you will be where I stand now and I hope that who is holding that wand shows you the same kind of mercy you have shown in your life," he spat seethed, favouring his injured leg. "Fuck you, Tom Riddle," he finished spitting a final mouthful of blood at Voldemort's feet, wearing a cruel smile.

The Dark Lord was shocked but the shock quickly turned to anger.

"All who stand against me will fall, just like your foolish parents and now you," he screamed. He levelled his wand at the boy, the tip already glowing an eerie green. "Avada Kedavra," he shouted with all the hatred he could muster.

Before he had even begun his incantation a thick, black fog had rolled through the graveyard and surrounded him and his Death Eaters. He knew his aim was true and that from this distance there was no way he could have missed with his spell but he was furious that he would not see Potter fall.

A gentle single popping sound permeated the silence followed quickly by another. He furiously waved his wand dispelling the fog to find the spot where Potter had stood was now empty. All that remained was the no longer smoking remains of his destroyed wand.

He knew his spell had hit and he knew that Potter could not apparate through the wards around the graveyard. He was confused and furious. Someone had taken the corpse he planned on parading through the streets of the wizarding world to show that he could not be stopped, not even by Harry Potter.

He took some comfort in knowing that Potter was finally dead but he wanted that corpse. He screamed again in rage. Sweeping his wand in an elaborate arc, he levelled the remaining tombstones in the graveyard.

He would find those responsible for this travesty and they would meet the same fate as the boy

(BREAK)

He watched through his steel grey eyes from the edge of the graveyard, having expected this day to come, though not how it had transpired before him.

He knew that Voldemort had not truly been killed thirteen years ago and had used that time to learn as much as he could about the man. It had been difficult, according to the wizarding world he had died not long after the fall of the Dark Lord but in truth, he had spent these last years preparing for his inevitable return.

He had learnt many months ago from the muggle newspapers about the disappearance of Frank Bryce, the Riddles' gardener and vowed to keep vigil on the property from then on. He had the property watched continuously through his elves but had learnt very little. He was aware that wards had been placed around the property, simple wards only; muggle repelling, anti-apparition and basic notice-me-not charms but no people had been seen entering or leaving the property until tonight.

The elves had alerted him to what was happening and he quickly made his way here arriving in time to see the other boy bought along with Potter murdered needlessly in cold blood and knew if he didn't act, then Potter would follow shortly afterwards.

He watched in anger and sadness as the teen was bound to the tombstone and had his blood stolen to be used in that disgusting potion by the short, rotund man and bore witness in a mixture of awe and horror as Voldemort rose from the cauldron and equal fury as he tortured an unarmed and defenceless boy.

It was with equal pride and respect that he watched Potter stand against the Dark Lord despite knowing it was a helpless situation and the odds were against him. He balked as their wands connected and felt a greater sense of pride fill him as Potter bested the Dark Lord and when the subsequent shades emerged from the wand, although he could not hear what they were saying, he could see the determination appear in the boy's eyes at their words.

His own pride and deserved admiration however, all but vanished at what followed.

The Potter boy fell and his heart filled with dread in anticipation of what would come to pass, it was inevitable. Through his own turbulent thoughts, he heard Potter laugh and thought, as the Death Eaters did, that he had finally snapped his mind no longer functioning coherently.

His eyebrows rose as Potter stood and looked at the Dark Lord defiantly, an all too familiar glare in his eyes, a stare he hadn't seen in many, many years.

He nodded, silently encouraging the boy. He could not be prouder of him in that moment as he swelled with joy at the memories that the visage had awoken within him. He would have attempted to save the boy because of his own history, but now he was determined. He could see the potential in him the same potential he had himself witnessed in the one that the boy reminded him, down to the stubbornness on display.

Just from what he had seen, he knew the boy was the best hope of someone ending the Dark Lord once and for all, when it mattered and none had more right to do so than a Potter.

With sudden vigour, he tore at the anti-apparition wards furiously knowing he had to work quickly and precisely to pull his plan off and as he tore through them, he could see the green glow at the tip of the Dark Lords wand. Increasing the urgency in which he worked, he twirled his own in a figure eight motion followed by a sharp jab, the moment the final ward collapsed. Immediately, Riddle and his followers were engulfed in a thick, black fog. Little more than an inconvenience for them but enough for him to make his move.

When he was certain that he would not be seen, he apparated behind the boy only to see him hit full in the face by the killing curse that had been sent his way, the boy seemingly not even having tried to avoid it. He managed to catch him as he fell limp as an inky black substance poured from the infamous lightning bolt scar. An ear-splitting screech accompanied it and the darkness that escaped left him recoiling in nausea. He was familiar with dark magic having spent much of his life practicing it, but this was something else entirely, something that held no familiarity with him, something that was beyond his own expertise.

The black, inky mass dissipated quickly and he checked for a pulse not expecting to find one present. Shockingly, it was there, very faint, but there nonetheless and supported by a sudden influx of laboured breathing by the boy. Out of his depth and having no other solution to hand, he disapparated home with haste knowing that time was of the essence if he was to have any chance of saving him.

(BREAK)

Albus Dumbledore arrived in the graveyard in a flash of fire, wand in hand ready, only to hear the tell-tale cracks of several people disapparating before he could catch his bearings.

He looked upon the scene of destruction with his keen eyes trying to discern what had happened. It was clear that quite the fight had taken place and he held on to the small glimmer of hope that his students had managed to hold off Voldemort long enough to escape.

The feeling was short lived however as he spotted the lifeless body of Cedric Diggory only a few feet to his left and the still-glowing Triwizard cup discarded next to him.

A sad silent tear escaped him as he mourned the needless loss of a fine young man. Though distraught, he fought to compose himself quickly knowing that Cedric could no longer be helped but there was still hope for Harry yet.

He carefully approached the enormous smoking cauldron and peered inside. He frowned at the unknown potion but could sense a few of the ingredients; flesh, blood and bone and felt queasy knowing that nothing good could be born from such a concoction.

Abandoning his musings, he began his search for any sign of Harry and was caught short when he came upon the broken remains of his wand amongst the debris and devastation that had been wrought.

Fearfully, he picked it up in a trembling hand and felt the familiar warmth of Fawkes radiating from it.

The phoenix perched on his shoulder trilled sadly at the destruction of a wand he had helped create and trilled again in an even more melancholy manner at the thought of the loss of the wand's owner.

Dumbledore sighed as he wiped away an errant tear that he was unaware had formed and fired off a patronus to Severus asking him to send Amelia Bones to the graveyard as soon as possible.

Whilst he waited, he continued with his investigation of the area, piecing together what had happened. He felt the expected presence of Tom Riddle being very familiar of the types of spells he used and the the all too familiar presence of his more prolific followers, having come across them many times during the last war. As he walked around the perimeter, he felt the ambient magic of the wards that had been here and cast some diagnostic spells, anticipating that he would find standard anti-apparation wards.

What he did find however only had him frowning at the results. He ran the check once more to be certain that he was seeing the outcome for what it he believed was, although it was beyond both expectation and comprehension.

There was however, no denying his findings. There were indeed signs of the ward but it had not been dropped by the creator, it had been broken from the outside and the Headmaster had no doubt it would have to have been done by one with more than passive skill in the subject.

He closed his eyes and reached out, focusing on any foreign magic. The presence he felt was somewhat familiar to him, though not intimately so. The witch or wizard had concealed themselves very well.

He checked the graveyard again for any further sign of them and was again surprised and confused to find a sudden sharper presence of the individual's signature where he had found the remains of Harry's wand. The sudden presence led him to believe that whomever it was had apparated directly where Harry had stood and away again.

He knew that he would learn little else from here and could only hope that this person was an ally whom had managed to help Harry escape.

It was imperative to find Harry, if he was alive. There were things he needed to know and he could only pray that he would be forgiven for withholding so much from the boy. If Harry had not managed to survive, then Dumbledore knew that the coming years would be very dark indeed. Without their beacon of hope and saviour, the wizarding world would crumble to dust without much resistance and Tom Riddle would exert his will upon them all.

"Do you think it's possible he escaped?" he asked his still trilling familiar.

Fawkes paused and cocked his head to the side, his black beady eyes focused on his long-time friend. He screeched a long hopeful note eliciting a deep feeling of hope within the headmaster who simply stroked the bird's plumage and smiled gently, his eyes regaining some of their usual twinkle.

"You're right, my friend. We have to have faith in Harry, he has certainly overcome the odds enough times now for me to not count him out," he finished feeling a little calmer.

If Harry had indeed been captured and taken away by Tom, he would soon be made aware of it as would the rest of the Wizarding world. Tom would be compelled to boast and would feel no need to hide in the shadows with the death of the boy.

He knew not many would truly stand against him if Harry fell to his wand. With Fawkes assurance, he believed that Harry had yet to meet such a fate. He would have to check the wards at Privet Drive for further clarification, a journey he would make as soon as he had spoken at length with Amelia. He would inform her of Harry's disappearance and hope that a combined effort would find him alive and unharmed.

His formulations were intruded upon by the arrival of the Head of the DMLE and two of her aurors, both of whom he knew quite well. They hadn't always seen eye to eye but Dumbledore knew Amelia was honourable and trustworthy if nothing else. She herself had lost much of her family during the last war and he knew he could have a powerful ally in Madame Bones.

"What the hell is going on Dumbledore?" She asked impatiently. "The school is in uproar wondering what is happening and the press is having a field day shouting about you and your incompetence."

She faltered at seeing the grim look in the eyes of the chief warlock and paled further still at the unseemly site of the body of Cedric Diggory.

Dumbledore sighed sadly and offered a weak smile. He explained everything that had happened to the director and her two aurors who simply gaped at what they were being told.

When he was finished Amelia looked simply dumbfounded, overwhelmed by all she had heard.

"Fudge will never believe it," She managed to stammer after composing herself for several moments. "He won't believe it until he sees it for himself and with Lucius Malfoy pulling his strings, he will simply ignore everything. What the hell can we do Albus? What do we tell the Diggorys and what about Potter?" She asked firing the questions quickly, not allowing the older man time to respond.

"We tell them the truth Amelia, that's all we can do and hope that people see it for what we know it to be," he answered when she had finished speaking. "Harry is very resourceful, believe me. It is not the first time he has found himself in a less- than desirable situation," he chuckled in fondness at the memories of Harry, his penchant for finding himself in situations and coming out on top over again.

Before she could scold him for his inappropriate laughter, he raised a placating hand.

"Mr Potter is a very capable wizard. I will not divulge the unknown specifics but suffice to say he has done things that most would deem impossible. He mastered the Patronus charm at 13 years old and drove off all of the Dementors that Cornelius deemed fit to guard Hogwarts after Sirius Black escaped," Dumbledore explained satisfied at the look of awe on the faces of the aurors and the head of the DMLE.

"That's impossible, no one can drive away any more than a few Dementors at a time," the young female auror denied.

"My dear Nymphadora, I can assure you that it is in fact possible as young Harry himself did it and, had he not, he and his godfather would have suffered a most unfortunate fate," the Headmaster replied, amused by the young metamorph's constant changing hair colour.

"Why would Potter save Black? He betrayed the boys' parents to the Dark Lord," Amelia asked, confused by such a revelation.

The young female auror was paying rapt attention, she was very interested in hearing Dumbledore's answer to such a question.

"As chief warlock of the wizengamot, I cannot influence your investigation but I daresay that you will find the most peculiar magical presence of a wizard thought murdered by Mr Black some thirteen years ago, in this very graveyard," he said conspiratorially, though he did not elaborate further, much to her consternation.

Amelia blinked taken aback by statement.

"Pettigrew? You're telling me Pettigrew is alive and in league with the Dark Lord?" she asked suspiciously, not at all convinced by what Dumbledore had more than implied.

"It is not my place to say and you know that I cannot officially take part in any investigation. However, I'm sure if you investigate the official documents you will find some very interesting reading or, more accurately, lack of reading," he returned, articulating his words carefully. "Anyway, you are here now to do your job and I must speak to the Diggorys and inform them of what has happened," he finished reverting to his mournful demeanour, reminding himself of the dire need to visit the residence of the Dursley's as soon as possible. "Oh, I believe that when you are finished here, I have a most interesting man you will want to take into custody, he is pivotal to what has occurred this evening," he added with a nod before flashing away in flames.

Amelia simply shook her head and attempted to digest what she learnt. There was much to do and tonight was just the beginning. She had no reason to doubt Dumbledore, he was not one for scaremongering, if anything he had played down the seriousness of the situation.

She knew that her life would become very hectic and very busy but she would not allow anyone else she cared about to die at the Dark Lord's hand.

She had work to do and lots of it.

Nymphadora Tonks on the other hand was occupied by thoughts of a different nature. She had always believed that her cousin had turned traitor against his best friend and now she had just heard that there was a chance that it wasn't true, from Dumbledore himself no less.

She would take his advice and investigate the matter, starting with this graveyard and then she would speak to her Mother. If anyone knew the kind of man Sirius Black was, it would be her. She set to work with a lot of information whirling through her mind, determined to find the truth.

_(BREAK)_

Harry Potter opened his eyes, only to be met with the sight of a grey mist wherever he looked. At first, he had been convinced that it was his vision was being affected, but after waving his hand in front of his face and seeing it clearly, he determined that is was the place he was in that was causing it.

Although he could see nothing, his senses told him that he was not alone. He reached for his wand, forgetting that he no longer had it and cursing his bad luck when he found his pocket empty. With a deep sigh and shrug, he began walking forward in earnest trying to find anything that would explain where he had been brought to.

The fog itself was a constant and showed no signs of clearing or changing, but the further he ventured, sounds slowly became audible. It took a further moment or so of walking but the sounds became clearer and he frowned as he tried to discern the words of what he quickly identified.

There were voices, many voices that seemed to come from nowhere, whispering to him.

He continued forward lost in thought, some of the voices fading to nothingness as others became clearer, though only the odd word identifiable amongst the cacophony.

He sighed as he attempted to ignore them.

He thought back to his final moments and felt a sense of pride at how he had carried himself and had goaded Riddle into anger. He was surprised that his life did not flash before his eyes as the green light of the killing curse hurtled towards him. Instead, he became acutely aware of everything around him in the moment; the smell of his own blood and perspiration, the gentle breeze of the June evening that gently caressed his damp skin but above all else the serenity he felt knowing that all of his heartache and pain would soon be over.

Yes, there were people he would miss but now he would get to be with those who he had had for only the briefest time when he had been but a baby.

He increased his pace at the thought of seeing his parents again only to be stopped in his tracks by a gentle voice that easily drowned out the other surrounding murmurs.

"Please, stop Harry, listen to what we have to say and then you can make any choice you want to. I promise that we won't try to change your mind once you have heard us out," the familiar but seldom heard voice said in a pleading tone.

Harry was shocked. He knew that voice but had only heard it in his darkest moments begging for his life to be saved and hers to be taken instead, courtesy of his worst nightmares and his run-ins with the Dementors. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat before replying.

"Mum? Is that you?" he asked, not able to hide his excitement at hearing his Mothers,' voice for the first time not in a state of distress.

"Yes, it's me Harry," the voice of Lily Potter answered full of enough emotion for Harry to know she was chocking back her tears. "Please, stay where you are, if you come any closer then there is no going back," she explained, undoubtedly saddened at the situation her son had found himself in.

"No going back?" Harry asked in confusion. "But I'm dead, aren't I? There is no going back from death."

"You are both dead and alive Harry, you are currently both and neither, in the space between both worlds, and from here, you can go back the way you came or keep walking forward and move on to the other side," Lily continued.

At that explanation Harry moved to take another step forward but was once again stopped by the voice of his mother.

"Wait, Harry, please," her voice pleaded once more. "Let me explain."

He complied and she took a deep before speaking once more.

"Your soul was tainted by an essence of Voldemort from when he attempted to kill you as a baby and when the curse hit you, it removed the it. So, in effect, the killing curse took a life of some form as intended but you do not have to give up yours. I am not allowed to say any more than that as we are not allowed to interfere with anything from the other side. If I say any more, I would be cast out from this place and we would never be able to see each other again," she explained apologetically. "You have the chance to go back," she continued "you can try to stop Voldemort and save your friends and all those you care about or you can walk forward and pass on, it is your choice," she finished with a sigh.

Harry knew there was much more to it than what he was being told.

"What happens if I decide to walk forward and pass on?" he asked in a calm voice that did not reflect his inner turmoil.

The voice hesitated before sighing.

"All I can say it that there will be very dark times on the other side, there are very few who will stand against Voldemort and those few will likely fall," the voice replied. "Like it or not Harry, these people look to you as a beacon of hope and without you there will be reluctance to fight."

"But I'm just me, I'm just a boy," he replied in a huff.

"No Harry, you are not just a boy. What you did and how you faced death in the graveyard is what separates you from everyone else. You fought back and even when you knew the end was coming you did not beg nor plead for your life as almost all others would. You accepted your fate and showed Voldemort something he had never seen; unwavering bravery in the face of death. The only person who he fears is you, Harry. He could not kill you as a baby and now he believes he has succeeded. How do you think he will react knowing you had again survived his attempt at killing you? It will give everyone hope that he can be stopped and I'm sorry Harry but you are that hope as much as you don't want it to be," Lily explained sadly to her son.

Harry was confused and frustrated.

"Why does it have to be me? Why can't someone else do it just for once? I am ready to die, I want to die, I want it all to be over. How can you ask me to go back now after everything I've had to deal with? Every time things go wrong everyone turn their backs on me then its left to me to deal with it all and then it starts all over again," he finished breathless from his outburst, his eyes welling with tears.

He took a deep breath before continuing.

"I've had enough, I just want it to all be over, so why should I go back and help them only for them to hail me as a hero when it's convenient for them and then be shunned all over again when it's all over? he asked in anger.

Before the voice of his mother could reply another voice was heard above the whispers.

"Because that is who you are, Harry," a deep masculine voice answered. "You don't see yourself as a hero but you simply do what is right. You don't do it for the adoration and approval of others and you don't do it for the fame and glory, you do it because you can, because you know that it is the right thing to do. You are different to the others, you have the courage to fight the fight that they can't and you have the potential to succeed. If worst comes to worst then he will kill you again and you will find yourself back here but we both know that if you step forward now you will never find peace you seek knowing that you could have been that difference. You are a Potter. We stand against tyranny, we fight the battles that others can't because that's who we are and that's what we do and always have. You can't change who you are, Harry; you can't fight what is in your blood. Who do you know that can stand and face Voldemort the way you have and end him? I saw the look in your eyes as you faced him at the end, you wanted to kill him and had you had a wand, you would have done everything you could to do it. He killed your parents and condemned you the life that you have had to live. Are you really going to let that go and let him do that to countless others? I think not," the voice finished.

Harry stood stock still absorbing the words that had been spoken to him.

He was clinging to a final strand of hope that he wouldn't have to go back but he had unknowingly already resigned himself to it.

"What about Dumbledore?" he asked, partly out of desperation. "He is the only one who Voldemort is afraid of."

"Dumbledore is a very old man, Harry, and he has fought his fight, this is a fight for a younger man. Voldemort does not fear Dumbledore he has simply struggled to defeat him in the past but those times are behind him now. Dumbledore could still hold his own against him but he does not have it in him to finish him magically or morally, he has his reasons but they are his to tell you, but Dumbledore will not take a man's life, no matter how necessary it is," the masculine voice replied.

With those words, Harry knew he had to go back. As much as he wanted to walk forward and be done with it all he knew the voice was right. He would not find peace on the other side if he left the others to a horrible fate that he could prevent. He rubbed his eyes in frustration and released a long drawn out breath.

"Who are you?" he asked the empty vastness. "And how do I get out of the graveyard? As soon as I wake up there, surely he will just kill me again."

The voice chuckled at the questions.

"I'm sure you will know who I am soon enough, Harry, and you are no longer in the graveyard. You were saved and taken away as soon as the curse hit you, I'm sure right now there is a very worried man watching over you."

Harry couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed at the voice as it spoke in amusement. He chose instead to address his mother.

"Mum, what do you think I should do?"

"You already know what you have to do," she replied her voice full of emotion.

Harry simply nodded and swallowed back another lump. He turned to leave and walk back the way he came when the male spoke again.

"Remember Harry, fighting for others is all well and good and the right thing to do, but never lose sight of your own reasons. You do what you must to survive and protect those who can't protect themselves. War is war, when someone is trying to kill you or those you care about there can be no hesitation. You must do whatever is necessary to make sure you and those who stand by your side make it through even if that means taking a life. You will regret losing someone you care about more than you ever will taking the life of someone who will not hesitate to take yours. Know your enemy Harry, know what you are against and know your blood and what it is you fight for. Fight fire with fire, it's the only way yourself and those you hold dear will make it through this alive."

"I will," Harry assured the man, now aware of how different things would be. "I will," he whispered to himself before stepping again towards where he came from.

_(BREAK)_

Harry awoke and took in the unfamiliar surroundings. He was in a dark room decorated mostly in ornate oak furniture. There were various paintings on the wall and a thick chocolate rug on the heavy wooden floor in front of a crackling fire that was surrounded with a simple stone placing. He tried to move but found himself quite stiff and his joints protested his attempts.

The stiffness of his joints aside he felt much better than he had expected. He felt that he was breathing easier than he ever had and that a huge burden had been lifted from him, he felt light and knew that it must be from the taint of Voldemort being removed from him.

He turned his head to take in the rest of the room only to be faced with a pair of sharp, penetrating steel grey eyes that betrayed no emotion.

The man sat beside him in a simple armchair was old, not as old as Dumbledore but advanced in his years, nonetheless. He had the look of a man who had seen and been a part of much in his life, though was not heavily scarred nor did he show any wounds but the eyes told the story of a truly hardened man, a man who had faced and overcome much adversity in his time.

Harry swallowed nervously and attempted to moisten his dry mouth to talk through the nervousness he was feeling.

"So, you finally decided to wake up, Mr Potter," the man stated in a neutral voice. "It is about time".

Harry swallowed again at the man's casual tone.

"Who are you?" he managed to ask. "How long was I out?"

The still unidentified looked at him with a penetrating stare that seemed to see straight into his soul.

"You have been unconscious for three days" he explained, "and as for who I am, my name is Arcturus Orion Black, your great uncle on you fathers' side and I believe we have much to discuss and much more to do" he said gravely.

**A/N**

**As you can see, not many changes here compared to the first but they will happen somewhat the further I delve into this.**

**Also, my competition is still up and running on my Ko-Fi page for any who wish to enter, (Link can be found on my profile) and thank you to those that are taking part thus far, the support is much appreciated. I am currently working on 'The Green and the Grey' which will be continuing very soon. I am currently reformatting it and working on the next chapter.**

**Ciao for now,**

**TBR**


	2. Know Thy Blood

**A/N**

**Polished so that it is more readable. There are no major changes here but the interactions are smoother and a few parts added to clarify what is happening/ remedy any things that I overlooked previously.**

**Enjoy **

**TBR**

Chapter 2: Know Thy Blood

The last three days had gleaned very little information for Albus Dumbledore. No matter how often he told himself that Harry was ok, he couldn't help but worry deeply for the missing teen. He knew that he was alive at the very least and sure that he was not in the clutches of Tom Riddle. Had he been, he would surely know by now.

Severus had gotten very little from Barty Crouch Jr, who was unaware of what the plan entailed after Harry was transported to the graveyard. He was finally taken into custody by Amelia Bones and nothing had been shared about his fate. Dumbledore was sure that when Fudge became aware of the Azkaban escapee, he would use every one of his resources to sweep all existence of the man under the proverbial rug.

A large part of the last few days had been spent both answering and avoiding questions about the fate of both the Hogwarts champions. It was not that he was unwilling to answer the questions, but he wanted to be sure of all the facts before he shared the information he had. He simply wanted to make a solid statement that could not be easily dismissed. He knew the uproar he was going to cause would be quite the spectacle and put himself in a very vulnerable position. Again, Cornelius would do all he could to reassure the public that everything was fine and would even resort to character defamation, without hesitation, to hide the return of the Dark Lord.

Thus, Dumbledore had spent part of the last few days putting together his contingency plan. He knew he would lose favour with many people, but he knew he had to prepare them as much as they would allow for the inevitable conflict that was on the horizon.

Yes, the last few days had been difficult but Albus Dumbledore had not been idle, in truth, he had been at his most busy in many years.

Currently, he was stood at the podium in front of the teachers table at the leaving feast and had the undivided attention of the occupants. There was no need to raise his hands to signal for silence as everyone in the Great Hall had been rather subdued after recent events, for whatever personal reasons they had. He let out a long breath before addressing his audience.

"Welcome to the end of year feast," he began. "I wish we were celebrating what has been overall a successful year. We have had the pleasure of two other schools for much of our term here this year, and it has been a pleasure to host them. I would like to thank Madame Maxime and the currently absent Headmaster, Karkaroff, for making the journey and sharing our grounds and castle with us," he finished, clapping towards the foreign students and the remaining staff member, in turn eliciting a subdued round of applause from the Hogwarts students and staff alike. "Now, I know you have been patient the last few days in regard to the fate of the Hogwarts champions".

His speech was cut off by the students murmuring to each other, so he raised his hands to silence them, to which they obliged.

"Both champions took the cup at the same time, so the result was a draw between Mr Diggory and Mr Potter," he informed the room.

The murmuring began briefly again but stopped as quickly as it started, all knowing that the headmaster had not finished.

"However, both champions upon touching the cup were transported to another location, far away from Hogwarts where tragedy struck," he explained sadly.

The students looked both confused and concerned at his explanation.

"There is no easy way to say this, but Cedric Diggory was murdered by Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter, as of three nights ago, is missing and his current condition is unknown."

The shock staggered them so that all failed to react to the use of the Dark Lords name. The reactions in the room were very mixed. The staff were simply horrified, those seated at the Gryffindor table wore expressions of complete and utter disbelief. The Ravenclaws looked both saddened and contemplative and the Slytherins had the most mixed reactions. Some looked terrified, some completely neutral and others entirely gleeful.

The Hufflepuffs were simply inconsolable. Cedric was popular with all in his house and his loss was felt across its entirety. Aside from the gentle sobbing emanating from some, the room was stone silent.

With is final words spoken, the Headmaster took his own seat, his mind once again plagued with the conundrum he faced.

Very little of the feast was consumed and it was an entirely silent affair, all lost in their own thoughts. The silence continued as they left the hall broken but was broken by a comment from a 6th year Hufflepuff student.

"I bet Potter had something to do with it, he probably sacrificed Cedric to save himself and then joined You-Know-Who" He muttered to his friend quietly, but the sound carried to all around in the silent entrance hall.

Everyone froze at his statement, many looking disgusted at his accusation.

Before anyone could reply a blurred figure broke through the crowd and punched the offending boy on the jaw, eliciting a sickening crunch before he hit the floor.

Standing over him was an uncharacteristically murderous Neville Longbottom massaging his knuckles.

"You stupid bastard," he seethed. "Harry's parents were murdered by V-Voldemort, why would he join him?" he finished, trembling with rage.

"What is the meaning of this, Mr Longbottom?" the sharp voice of the Deputy headmistress cut across the hall.

Turning to face the voice Neville was faced with the entirety of the staff, many looking surprised at the reaction of the usually passive boy.

He swallowed deeply before answering.

"He accused Harry of turning Cedric over to Vol-, Voldemort and then joining him, Professor McGonagall," he explained, fighting the urge to waver under her stern glare.

Her eyes softened slightly but her lips were still tightly pulled together in a thin line.

"Be that as it may, we do not resort to Neanderthal measures to demonstrate our distaste at somebody else's opinion. We are civilised people, Mr Longbottom, you would do well to remember that," she scolded him. "That will be 20 points from Gryffindor and had this not been our final day here you would be serving a week's detention."

"And that will be fifty points to Gryffindor," Professor Sprout cut in, "For showing great loyalty to a friend and defending a fellow student," she added. "Some members of my own house could do with showing the same loyalty as Mr Longbottom here, and Mr Bradwell?" She said addressing the grounded boy. "You and I will be having a conversation about such a slanderous accusation. That will be fifty points from Hufflepuff. Mr Potter and Cedric," She choked back a sob at his name, "had become very good friends throughout this year and there is no doubt in my mind that Mr potter would not have done anything intentionally to put Cedric in danger, you would all do well to remember that," she finished before walking away, no longer able to maintain her composure.

All in the entrance hall made their way to their respective common rooms, pondering what they had been told. Tomorrow, they would head home for the summer for some much-needed space and time away from the castle. The coming months would change things in their very world and they knew they had a lot to digest and think about.

(BREAK)

Albus Dumbledore returned to his office, contemplating the reactions of the students to his announcements. He knew that word would reach parents and the general public by morning and the repercussions were likely to be quite dire for him, but he only cared for the truth and he had given that as he knew it.

He was broken from his musings as he sat at his desk by a gentle tapping on the window. With a frown marring his features. he opened it to a very beautiful black eagle owl with very observant amber eyes. The red envelope it carried snatched his attention away from the regal looking creature and he sighed as he removed it.

"And so, it begins," he murmured, opening the howler.

He was surprised to not hear the usual screeching that came accompanied with such an envelope but a gentle, strong and dignified voice spoke a little above a regular speaking volume.

"Potter is safe and sound, you have my magical vow," the voice sounded.

Once finished, a silver glow surrounded the paper sealing the vow and then burst into flames, leaving not even ashes in its wake. The owl flew out of the still open window, its message delivered and job completed as Dumbledore frowned. He was sure he knew that voice but simply couldn't place it. He was however, feeling much more at ease knowing that Harry was in fact safe and had that knowledge sealed in a magical vow.

He sunk into his chair behind his desk once more, carefully picked out a lemon drop from the ever-present bowl and sucked on it as he continued to ponder the events that were unfolding around him.

He knew not what the future would bring, but for now, the thing plaguing him most had been eased. It didn't stop him wondering however; where on earth was Harry Potter?

(BREAK)

Harry was feeling a mixture of emotions. He was confused, relieved, grateful and nervous at the same time. He hadn't been told anything personally about Arcturus by Sirius but he had said that his whole family were dark and supported Voldemort. Before he could arrange his thoughts into any form of coherent speech, the man next to him spoke.

"I bet you're wondering why I saved you hmm?" Arcturus questioned. "Tell me boy, what do you know of my family?" he asked over steepled fingers, his eyes alive with a gently penetrating stare.

Harry considered his answer before speaking; he did not want to offend the man next to him. After a moment he decided honesty was best. It was no secret that the Blacks' were considered a dark family by all accounts.

"Sirius told me that you were all dark and supported Voldemort," he said simply, flinching slightly at the impassive face that looked back at him.

"Ahh yes, my idiot grandson. I can see why he would say that and he would be correct for the most part," Arcturus replied. "Most of my family are supporters of him, hell even I was at one time," he revealed to a surprised and slightly panicking Harry.

"What changed?" the teen asked nervously.

"The very thing we have been discussing," Arcturus answered, "Family."

Harry looked confused but before he could ask further questions Arcturus spoke once more.

"The last two wars have all but decimated the Black family," he sighed. "We have lost many on both sides of the conflicts. Yes, believe it or not some fought for both Grindelwald and Riddle and some fought against them. My older Brother Perseus and my father, both for Grindelwald and both died, my brother in battle and my father murdered because he refused to fund the effort further after his death," he continued. "After that, I became disillusioned with the war and the ambitions of Grindelwald. I figured that being a Black meant nothing to him and knew that if he was to succeed, our way of life here would change for the worse. So, at seventeen- years old, I became the head of the family, a position I was never meant to have nor had I ever wanted. I had long ago accepted that it was not my destiny" he explained.

Harry listened with rapt attention.

"My brother was thirteen-years older than me so I never really knew him. He had already left school by the time I was aware of much and had joined Grindelwald," Arcturus elaborated. "But I was always told that blood is the most important thing in the world and that stuck with me, even to this day," he added seriously. "I hated Grindelwald for what had happened to Perseus and for what he had done to my father. I wanted revenge".

He laughed a hollow laugh that reminded Harry of Sirius and how he sounded when he spoke of Pettigrew.

"Anyway, I will come back to that part in a moment," Arcturus said coming out of some clearly deep thinking. "Needless to say, after the Grindelwald years the Black family started to thrive again in the peace. Our numbers were still quite few but our family was growing to what it had once been. That was until the first rise of Tom Riddle," he snarled, a distasteful sneer etched on his face. "Many of my family rallied to his cause and I could see a repeat of the last conflict, only this time it was much closer to home and I knew it would be worse for us so I personally opted to stay neutral, but foolishly allowed the family to make their own choices, knowing that if I forbade them there would be an internal conflict I couldn't cope with. Many of the family, my son Pollux namely, had already long since been allied with other dark pureblood families; the Malfoy's and the Lestrange's," he spat "being the more prominent ones and were set to solidify the relationships through marriage. I gave too much freedom to the family and I certainly paid the price for my laxity."

He shook his head.

"After Grindelwald fell, I certainly didn't expect another Dark Lord to rise so quickly, certainly not in my lifetime," he continued. "Needless to say, the war once again tore my family apart. My grandson, Sirius, was the only one who stood against Riddle and all the others followed him quite fanatically. Pollux died early in the conflict leaving Druella a widow, who has since lived alone in isolation. Narcissa is still married to that fool, Lucius, and stuck with nothing more than an even more moronic version of him in her offspring. Bellatrix was sent to Azkaban and is still there and Andromeda married a muggleborn and fled the family as soon as she could. My son Orion was weak and allowed his wife to run his household to her own ends. The only thing she achieved was causing Sirius to flee the family and Regulus being a fanatic just like her," he said almost to himself once again.

Seeing the confused look on Harry's face, he elaborated.

"Regulus was Sirius' younger brother; he was quite the talented wizard," he explained. "We will come back to him later."

Harry just nodded at the revelation of Sirius's brother and waited for Arcturus to speak again.

"The one loss I truly struggle with was that of my little sister, Dorea," he sighed, his eyes flashing for a moment of sadness. "This is where your part in this comes, Mr Potter. Tell me, what do you know of your family?" he asked with a little amusement lacing his tone.

Harry thought carefully before he answered.

"Not very much sir," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders. He had long since learnt not to ask about his family it was after all a taboo subject in the Dursley home. "I know my mum was a muggleborn and my Dad was a pureblood," he finished lamely.

Arcturus growled irritably at Harry's lack of knowledge. He could not believe that the boy knew nothing of his family. Blood was important, had he not been told anything?

"Is that all you know?" he asked stiffly.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied. "I was raised by muggles and they hate magic. They told me my parents died in a car crash and no one has ever told me about my Dads family before."

"Has Dumbledore never said anything?" Arcturus asked, seemingly already knowing the answer.

"No, sir" Harry replied quietly.

Arcturus' irritation only grew as he shook his head and allowed a scowl to pass over his mask of neutrality.

"Well then, I guess it's time to learn about your blood Mr Potter," he said. "I can't tell you much about your Father, I met him numerous times of course mostly when he was younger and when he and Sirius visited before he fled. And I'm afraid I know very little about your Mother, only that she was a muggleborn, but she was a very talented witch by all accounts."

Harry was hung on to his every word. No one had ever made any effort to tell him about his parents and until now, he hadn't realised just how much he had missed out on.

Arcturus was clearly pondering the best way for him to proceed so Harry remained silent while the older man was thinking. Eventually he stirred from his thoughts and continued.

"I can tell you much more about your Grandparents than I can your parents as I knew them well enough," he said thoughtfully. "Do you know anything about them, Potter?"

"No, sir," Harry replied again disappointedly.

For a passing second, Arcturus looked simply murderous before managing to compose himself.

"Ok, then I will tell you everything I know and then you will understand how and why we are where we are now," he offered. "We will start with your Grandmother, Dorea," he said with nothing more than pride and fondness in his eyes and voice.

Harry, though emotionally rather obtuse, could see that the woman in question meant very much to the man.

"Dorea was my sister, a year younger than me," Arcturus began again. "She was a very gifted witch and quite different from the rest of the Black women. She was quiet and caring even before my father was killed and after that she became more so. She was particularly protective of me. It was me who took care of her after my father was gone, well, I think she took care of me more," he added. "She eventually became a healer, much to the surprise of everyone besides me. It was just in her nature and I'm very proud of what she became," he finished, his grey eyes sparkling gently in the firelight.

"It was an even bigger surprise to everyone that she married your grandfather, Charlus," he continued, seemingly quite amused. "I've never told the story of how they became married, it's very personal and I'm sure they only shared it with those close to them. It is safe to say however, that had my father lived, your grandparents would have never been together. The Potters and the Blacks were always too different and there had never been a union between the families," he stated matter-of-factly.

He appeared thoughtful for a moment before shaking himself from his reverie.

"Dorea would have been forced to marry into a darker family against her wishes, so in a way, my fathers' death was a blessing in disguise. Dorea was not inclined towards the family politics and any marriage arranged by my father would have been a very unhappy one for her."

"Now, your Grandfather was an honourable man, as tough as they came and respected by all. We found ourselves in similar positions, he also having lost his father at a young age; he was killed by Grindelwald personally," he clarified.

'_So, I have lost more than just my parents to dark lords,'_ Harry thought to himself sadly.

He was pulled from his thoughts again as the man spoke further.

"Charlus was the same age as myself and we went to Hogwarts together, I of course was in Slytherin as expected and he in Gryffindor. I had been told about the Potters growing up and your father certainly did not coincide with what I had been told. He was neither arrogant nor full of himself. He was a very gifted wizard, observant, quiet, very intelligent and extremely formidable with a wand. He learnt the family magic from a young age and became a fierce warrior in his own right. In his prime, even Dumbledore would have been very reluctant to cross wands with him. That would have been a very interesting fight," he mumbled to himself.

To hear that his own Grandfather was on a level with Dumbledore certainly surprised the teen.

"We had very little interaction at school even then the house separation was prevalent but, we did share the occasional class and competed against each other in the school duelling competitions and I'm not ashamed to admit, he made me look like an amateur and I was certainly no slouch, gifted in my own right," he said shaking his head. "Charlus was not taught to duel he was taught how to fight by his father. There is a big difference," he added. "We weren't friends but we were never at odds, we respected each other very much and for the most part, kept our distance. We would share little more than a passing greeting in the corridor. That was until our fifth year," he said, frowning again.

He sighed deeply before explaining.

"Dorea was in the year below us and as I said rather quiet, to the point others thought that they could take advantage of her or that she was an easy target," he said shaking his head with a look of annoyance. "It's probably easier if I show you," he said, suddenly coming to a decision. "Elgar," he called loudly.

There was a quiet pop as an aged house-elf appeared in the room.

"Master called for Elgar?" the creature asked.

"Yes Elgar, can you bring me the pensieve please?"

The elf complied immediately and vanished with another pop.

"Do you know what a pensieve is, Potter?" Arcturus questioned.

"Yes, sir," was the answer he received.

"Good, that will save me having to explain it."

With another gentle pop, Elgar appeared again holding a very ornate stone bowl which he placed on the bedside table before disappearing again, having carried out his task. Not before offering a final respectful bow towards the Black patriarch.

Arcturus drew his wand and placed it to his temple and removed a silvery strand which he immediately placed in the bowl. Harry stood and joined him and one after the other, they plunged face first into the surface.

_They appeared in what Harry immediately recognised as the Slytherin common room which, looked very similar to the way it had when he had been there during his second year. The room was full of students talking quietly but the older ones were clearly studying in various groups scattered around the room. Harry saw a much younger looking Arcturus sat at a table by himself surrounded by a vast amount of parchment which he was studying intently._

_Suddenly, the room became very silent. Harry turned to look towards the entrance and saw a boy stood in Gryffindor robes with his arms wrapped around a clearly distraught girl wearing the robes of Slytherin._

_The boy was tall and well-built with the tell-tale messy hair of the Potter males. His eyes were a deep brown and Harry could immediately feel his presence and understood why his Grandfather had been so respected. The fact that he had just walked into the snake pit, and none had tried to confront him, only added to that image._

_The girl he had in his arms was very beautiful and appeared regal, despite her dishevelled state. Her very long and thick black hair was put up in an elaborate fashion and her eyes were similar to her brothers, only a shade or two lighter. She had a petite nose which matched the build of her physique and very soft looking, plump lips._

_The sudden silence gained the attention of the younger Arcturus who, at seeing his sister in the arms of the Gryffindor, raced across the room looking both angry and concerned._

_"What the hell is the meaning of this, Potter?" he asked in a no-nonsense tone._

_Everyone in the room was watching the unfolding events with unwavering interest._

_The boy whom Harry had identified as Charlus, raised his left hand in a non-threatening manner to placate the clearly confused boy._

_"Black," he greeted the other boy with a simple nod. "I was walking towards the library when I came across your sister being attacked by four seventh years from my house. She is ok, I got there in time," he added quickly seeing that Arcturus was about to explode in fury. "She really is fine, just a little shaken and I dealt with the idiots personally. I couldn't leave her like this so I brought her back after she told me you'd be here."_

_"I'm surprised you didn't join in," a voice muttered from the corner. "You lions are all the same, thinking you can do what you want when you want."_

_Charlus' eyes flared in fury as his gaze shifted towards the offending boy._

_"You would do well to remember, Stebbings, that I have never attacked anyone in this castle let alone in this room. In fact, I have done nothing but defend anyone who is attacked for no reason and many of them are in this very house. So, you will kindly shut up with your stupid opinions when they do not include me," he finished, still glaring at the boy, who gulped loudly and remained silent after hearing murmurs of agreement from his fellow housemates._

_Charlus turned to look at Dorea who had stopped crying by now and he smiled a reassuringly at her before guiding her to her brother._

_"It's OK" he assured her, "Your brother will look after you now," he added handing, a seemingly reluctant Dorea to Arcturus who took her in his arms._

_She looked towards Charlus with a soft, delicate smile. "Thank you, Potter," She said quietly._

_"It's Charlus to you, my lady," he said with a slight bow and a similar smile before turning his attention to Arcturus._

_"Now that your sister is safe, I will take my leave," he said. "You of course all have my word as a Potter that none will here the password to your room from me. Best see if you can get it changed, just to be safe."_

_He turned and left leaving a shocked Slytherin house behind him. They had clearly been concerned that the whole of Gryffindor would now know where their common room was and they would have to be much more alert and vigilant. They may not have liked Potter, but his and his own were known to be good for their word._

The memory ended and Harry, along with Arcturus, were deposited back into the cosy bedroom they had begun in. Arcturus sat back in his chair lost in thought as Harry sat on the edge of the bed lost in his own. It was Arcturus that finally broke the silence.

"That was the day that I gained the respect I have for your Grandfather now. Not only did he save my sister, but he protected the rest of our house," he began. "It wasn't until a few days after that I learnt that the seventh years who attacked Dorea would spend the next two weeks in the hospital wing recovering from what Charlus did to them. He lost his prefect badge and was given detention for the rest of the year, but that didn't faze him, he did what he felt was right as he always did and cared not for the consequences," he concluded, the respect of what he spoke evident in his voice.

"Dorea became enamoured with Charlus and he was very taken with her too. I would often see them exchange looks and the occasional smile but they both knew they could not pursue any form of relationship, neither of our families would allow it so they remained apart. At the time, even I would have been hard pushed to approve of them despite how much I loved my sister and respected Charlus. The wizarding community would have been in uproar if a Black and a Potter were to be wed, it would have been completely unacceptable," he finished shaking his head.

"Anyway," he continued after a moment of silence, "the last couple of years at Hogwarts were tense. The threat of Grindelwald separated the houses further the closer the conflict came to our shores. Many supported him, particularly in my house, and many opposed him. It created a conflict within Hogwarts and there were a few quite ugly incidents. Eventually, we graduated and all went our own ways to carve out our futures. Charlus went to run the family businesses in his Fathers absence, who was away fighting against Grindelwald and I was training to join the duelling circuit not expecting things to change so quickly and drastically. "Dorea was in her final year so I went to America to train. I had been there for 6 months when I received word of my brother's death and my fathers' murder. I returned home immediately to tend to the family businesses and took up the headship shortly after. I mentioned before that I was angry and I wanted revenge. The family deaths were only truly a small part of why I became so angry, I was angrier that I had to take over the family and put my dream on hold. Duelling was what I was always best at and had always wanted to have that as my career, not having to be responsible for the family. The war had really heated up and the danger of it spilling on to our own land had never been greater. The way of life here was becoming more and more in peril and I knew what would happen to myself and my family if Grindelwald was triumphant here. I was angry and worried. I worried for Dorea more than anyone else I knew what those animals would do to her given the chance so I acted rashly and decided I would fight. Dorea begged me not to go but against her wishes I went anyway," he said sadly.

He paused again, reflectively.

"The war was fought on two fronts," he continued suddenly. "There was the muggle side and the wizard side. Grindelwald was pulling the German's strings and controlling the muggle side while we fought against the wizarding army he had amassed. I found myself at Normandy where the battle lines had been drawn and attached myself to a group of French freedom fighters. I stayed disguised hoping that if the war went badly, I would be able to salvage something in the aftermath," he said unashamedly. "One of the Blacks at some point had been an unspeakable, so I used the robes to hide my face knowing the hood could not be removed by anyone except me. It wasn't long before I saw action and realised my mistake in trying to be anonymous," he said grimacing. "I was completely out of my depth. Here let me show you," he offered, extracting another memory. "This is my first fight and the day your Grandfather came back into my life," he explained fondly. Again, they entered the pensieve.

_After the feeling of falling ceased, Harry found himself in a very muddy field on what appeared to be a clear spring day surrounded by hundreds of men and women, all appearing grim and tense._

_Around seventy metres in front of him was an equally large group, all wearing grey robes, clearly preparing for battle. Insults were traded between the groups for a few moments before all hell broke loose. He couldn't be sure which side had fired first, but he quickly found himself in the middle of two warring factions._

_He watched as the hundreds of witches and wizards traded all manner of curses and jinxes and looked on in horror as people were felled hard, some killed instantly and others sporting various types of gruesome wounds, screaming or simply moaning in heaps and piles of entangled bodies._

_The ground was quickly littered with entrails and limbs alike and there were many small streams of red and black liquid that formed into one vulgar river of blood and claret that gently disturbed the guts and extremities that were caught in its flow._

_He felt a tap on his shoulder and saw Arcturus nod towards a robed man, his face covered who was stood stock still in what appeared to be complete shock. The robed Arcturus shook himself from his stupor and began firing of curses into the grey masses quickly disposing of three individuals with some rather unpleasant curses. One caused the entrails of one man to exit his body through his mouth, another engulfed a man in completely black flames reducing him to nothing more than a pile of ashes. The final curse simply caused the man rot instantly into what looked to be a mummy. Harry fought the urge to vomit at seeing the effects of the curses but still felt very nauseas and uneasy at the sight of so much gore._

"This is war, Potter" Arcturus interrupted his attempts at calming his stomach. "Beautiful and glorious according to some," he said bitterly. "There," he said pointing at another man. Harry looked at the man in awe and swallowed deeply at what he saw.

_He was frightening and took those who engaged him down quickly and without hesitation. He removed limbs, broke bones and simply opened wounds so deep that the spell scraping on the bone was audible above the noise of the rest of the battle. The man in question was covered in blood and looked positively feral. His eyes were alight with power and the force of his spells reflected it._

_It wasn't until Harry really studied the man's face did he realise that it was Charlus; his Grandfather was this frightening individual._

_He watched as he came closer, leaving more corpses in his wake without remorse until he was stood next to Arcturus who had garnered a lot of attention with the garb he had donned. They fought side by side, not looking at each other, in a strangely beautiful harmony each other's spells complimenting the other perfectly._

_They shielded the other when it was needed and then moved to a back to back position where they continued to fight in their recently established synchronicity. Harry watched for several minutes as many fell to their combined efforts neither being hit by a spell. He didn't know how long he had been watching when he felt another tap on his shoulder. Looking up he saw the enraged face of Arcturus who was simply glaring to their left. Harry looked and saw a tall, blonde, curled haired man stalking towards the duo, his baby blue eyes unable to conceal the mirth and excitement he felt._

"Grindelwald," Arcturus ground out_._

_Grindelwald continued his way towards the two men aptly holding their own against his own men. Charlus saw his approach and turned to face him and Harry suddenly felt a wave of apprehension that seemed to reverberate around the entire battlefield. Many stopped to face the inevitable confrontation and stared with bated breath, their own conflicts abandoned. The younger Arcturus was still battling two other people and was not aware of what was happening just behind him._

_Grindelwald looked at Charlus with a calculating eye sizing him up and the younger man returned his gaze with a glare of pure hatred and fury. He silently fired a very powerful barrage of curses that took Grindelwald by surprise as they smashed into his hastily erected shield, crackling and emitting reverberating noises with every hit, sending him back several feet._

_He fired back with curses of his own only to see them simply batted aside by Charlus, who didn't bother raising a shield. The surprise on his face was clear; it was obvious that this was not a common occurrence. He frowned and suddenly adopted a visage of loathing aimed at the young man who dared attempt to make him look foolish. He fired off more curses that Charlus simply dodged gracefully and batted away again when needed. Harry was simply shocked by the skill and power of his Grandfather and felt a huge rush of pride and respect for the man._

_Grindelwald's gaze flickered towards the back of the still battling Arcturus and he smirked. He fired off a chain of spells intended to cause grievous harm towards the unaware man and looked on in glee._

_Charlus in response to this, conjured a thick granite wall at his comrade's back that crumbled more and more as each spell hit. He fired back towards his opponent and the two began trading spells dodging and batting away the strays they couldn't avoid once more._

_The frustration Grindelwald was feeling could be seen in his eyes and he quickly changed tact. He fired off a string of spells at Charlus and immediately fired an unfamiliar, sickly purple and yellow curse at the exposed back of Arcturus that connected with a sickening crunch, followed by a large gout of blood._

_The head of the Black family simply screamed and fell to the floor, clutching his wound._

_Charlus was furious and staved off his disbelief. He hurtled a powerful cutting curse towards Grindelwald who shielded the spell, but not well enough. Some of the spell passed through and opened a deep gash on his left cheek._

_The blonde man roared in surprise and agony and with a final look of hatred he disapparated._

_Charlus quickly turned his attention to his fallen companion and tried to remove his robes so he could attempt to heal his wound but found he could not take it off._

_"I need to remove your robes to get to the wound," he said calmly, though his complexion had paled._

_Arcturus hesitated but finally removed his hood and looked up at Charlus, each as surprised as the other._

_"Black?" Charlus asked incredulously._

_"Potter?" Arcturus returned the question, equally surprised._

_After a moment Charlus shook himself from his surprise._

_"I need to get to the wound," he repeated._

_Arcturus nodded and obliged his request by removing the garment revealing several deep wounds exposing the bone of his shoulder blade in various places._

_The flesh at the edges of the wounds was black and the blackness was spreading, slowly consuming the healthy flesh around it, giving the skin the appearance that it was already dead and yet, still dying._

_"How bad is it?" Arcturus asked, grimacing in pain._

_"It's bad," Charlus replied with worry in his voice. "The flesh on your back is turning black, its spreading from the wound," he finished grimly. _

_The other man frowned in thought and shook his head sadly._

_"Was the spell purple surrounded by yellow?" Arcturus asked sounding equally hopeful and upset._

_"Yes, it was," Charlus confirmed. "Do you know what it is?" _

_"Bastard," Arcturus muttered under his breath before sighing deeply. "Yes, it's a Black family curse, he must have learnt it from my brother. You need to get me to Dorea, she's the only one that can counter it. She will be at home, it's the Easter holidays," he finished, gritting his teeth through the pain._

_Charlus hesitated for a second before grabbing Arcturus' left arm._

_"Where am I apparating to?" he asked._

_"Shit," Arcturus replied. "You're not keyed into our wards and they're not exactly welcoming. Can you take me to your place and then you can floo Dorea?" he asked._

_Charlus nodded._

_"Read this," he instructed handing Arcturus a piece of parchment he removed from his pocket._

_Arcturus took the paper and read: Potter Manor can be found 10 miles west of the most southern point of Mount Snowdon, Wales._

_"Fidelius?" he asked, impressed._

_Charlus just nodded once more and with that, they disapparated._

The memory faded briefly but soon came back into focus._ Harry now found himself stood in a black and white marble entrance hall decorated with thick, opulent oak and leather furniture. The room was lightly painted in neutral colours and ahead of him was a very grand oak staircase with gold bannisters snaking the length, on both sides of the stairs._

_Charlus was stood in the middle of the hall supporting a very sickly Arcturus who was leaning heavily on the other man._

_"Maisie," Charlus called in a loud commanding voice. A house-elf appeared immediately in front of the duo._

_"Yes, Lord Potter," the elf replied, unfazed by her masters injured companion._

_"Can you fetch the potion kit and take it to the first guest bedroom and then take Mr Black there, please?" Charlus requested._

_"Yes, Master Charlus," Maisie replied fondly before popping away again._

_"I need your floo address," he said turning to Arcturus who was beginning to sweat profusely under the effects of the curse._

_"Ravens corner," the other man answered breathily. "The password is purity"._

_With that, he placed Arcturus in the chair in front of the fireplace and took a handful of floo powder from the pot on the mantelpiece. He hesitated momentarily before throwing it in and calling out the address, followed by the pass phrase._

_He stuck his head into the now green flames and found himself peering into a beautifully decorated dining room. There was a large, black polished table with several chairs around it that rested on a thick grey carpet. A beautiful tapestry depicting the Black family tree took up the entirety of the opposite wall. The rest of the walls were a deep, dark green completed with various portraits and silver candle holders._

_"Miss Black?" he called loudly into the open room._

_After a moment's pause Dorea entered the room. His breath hitched slightly as he took in her appearance. She no longer stood the awkward, reticent girl he had assisted what seemed so long ago. In place now stood a woman grown, more attractive than he could have imagined. To him, her face had matured into something that he had only seen in the most beautiful and sought after works of art. Her features were delicate, aristocratic and her cheeks had a gentle blush that drew attention to her light silver eyes that were simply enchanting. Her figure was as lithe as it had always been but she had filled out in all the areas that completed the picture of a perfect woman._

_Charlus's mouth dried as he attempted to find his words. He had fought his attraction to her while at school and even after the amount of time that had passed, he found the internal conflict just as difficult. For him it was as though no time had gone by at all._

_"Mr Potter?" she asked clearly very surprised at the appearance of the man in her fireplace. "How did you get this address?" she questioned, attempting to smooth down her form-fitting robes discreetly._

_"Your brother is here. He's been hit by one of your family curses and says that you know the counter to it," he replied, composing himself. Can you come through? The address is Potter Manor and the pass phrase is pride. I'll send through the parchment so you can bypass the Fidelius charm," he finished, exiting the floo and throwing the parchment into the flames._

_He turned to see that Arcturus had been taken to the guest room so waited for Dorea to appear. He was very aware of his state of dress and the fact that he was caked in blood. He removed his wand and waved it over himself in attempt to clean as much off as possible. He then cleaned his hands and face and attempted to tame his messy hair._

_Dorea appeared shortly afterwards understandably concerned and he immediately began to lead her to the room her brother was currently occupying._

_"What curse was it he was hit with," she asked in a business-like tone Charlus was unfamiliar with._

_"Erm… It was purple and yellow," he answered, caught off guard by her unusual demeanour._

_She quickened her pace and started to race up the staircase, seemingly forgetting she had no idea where she was going._

_Charlus quickly caught up to her and took her by the arm, surprising her with his gentle yet firm grip._

_"It's this room here," he said guiding her inside._

_The sight they were met with would have been comical if it wasn't for the seriousness of the situation. Maisie was stood on the bed tugging at the duvet that Arcturus had clearly retreated under to escape the onslaught from the clearly determined elf._

_"Young Mr Black must be taking the potion," the elf shouted at the quivering form. "It will helps with the pain."_

_"Damn elf," was the muffled reply. "If I take that potion it will kill me, I can't take it until the curse has been countered."_

_"Maisie its ok, Mr Blacks' sister is here now. You can give him the potion after she removes the curse," Charlus explained trying to calm the eager elf._

_The elf reluctantly stepped away from the covered man and stood patiently at the side of the bed waiting for her turn to heal the patient. A very dishevelled Arcturus emerged from the duvet, quite red in the face. Dorea immediately stepped forward and began scolding her older brother shocking both men._

_"You damned fool, Arcturus," she seethed. "I knew this would happen, I told you, you would only get hurt running off and fighting like that."_

_It was clear to see that Arcturus was suitably reprimanded. The two men shared a look of agreement; that upsetting Dorea Black was not a good idea. She may still be quiet and reserved but she was no longer the nervous fourteen-year-old girl from three years ago._

_"Show me," she demanded of her brother who obliged her request by turning to expose his wounds._

_She sucked in a deep breath and turned to Charlus. "Mr Potter, can you keep him talking?" she asked softly. "This is going to hurt but he needs to be awake while I remove it."_

_"Of course, Miss Black" he obliged before making his way to the chair next to the bed. Dorea made her way onto the bed and sat behind her brother, drawing her wand and waving it in an intricate pattern over the wounds, whispering in what Charlus recognised as a Nordic language._

_"So, Black" he started, "What the hell were you doing there?" he asked, genuinely curious._

_Arcturus stared at Charlus thinking on his answer but the pain he was feeling compelled him to talk and distract him and so, he answered honestly._

_"Grindelwald ruined my life," he stated simply. "My brother died in his service and then he murdered my father because he refused to continue funding his efforts. Now I'm head of the family, something I never wanted. I was in America when I got the news. I was training to join the duelling circuit," he finished wincing in pain._

_Charlus looked at him in what appeared to be sympathy and understanding. He nodded in acknowledgement at the answer._

_"It's getting more dangerous," he continued. "The war is now on our doorstep and you know as well as I do what will happen if he succeeds, you know what will become of our families and what they will do to the people here. You've seen more of it than me and you've heard the rumours of what happens to the women," he said looking at Charlus who understood what was being said without hearing the words. He looked towards the unaware Dorea and then back to Arcturus who nodded at his observation. "What about you, why were you there?" he asked. "The last I heard you were running the family businesses while your father was fighting." _

_For a moment, Charlus was devastated. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and when he opened them, the sadness had passed and in its place was a fierce look of hurt and anger._

_"Grindelwald killed my father," he growled. "He cursed him in the back, the coward didn't even fight him like a man. They managed to bring him back home but he had already succumbed to the curse and there was nothing that could be done. He died painfully and slowly," he finished, pausing briefly to gather himself._

_Arcturus nodded in understanding. The death of his father had hit him quite hard but he and his father had not shared the same closeness Charlus and his own had. He could see the pain in the man's eyes and he truly felt for him._

_"What about your mother?" he asked, attempting to draw Charlus away from his clearly dark thoughts and to distract himself from the pain he was feeling._

_"She broke down badly after my father died and when she found out I was going to fight, she said that she couldn't face losing me too. She went to stay in one of our family homes somewhere in the tropics," he answered. "I can't just sit here and do nothing" he added. "My father fought because he knew it was the right thing to do but I fight for nothing but my revenge, for what he has done to myself and my mother" he finished, his eyes ablaze._

_Arcturus remained silent waiting for him to continue knowing he needed to vent._

_"I will get that bastard," he continued, breaking the momentary silence. "If it's the last thing I do I will get him," he spat._

_"I'm finished," Dorea suddenly announced, breaking the tense atmosphere. "It will take a while to completely heal, but the curse is gone," she said placing her wand back up her sleeve._

_"Thank you," Arcturus replied gratefully, exhausted by his ordeal._

_"Now take your potion and get some sleep" she advised standing away from the bed. "And don't think for one second that I'm finished with you yet Arcturus, when you're feeling better, we will be having a conversation."_

_Arcturus gulped and nodded knowing that it was not a good idea to argue with his obviously angry sister. He drank his potion and settled deeper into the pillows and sighed in relief._

_"Is it ok for him to stay here, Mr Potter?" She asked Charlus nervously. "It's not safe for him to travel for a few days until the wounds seal," she explained._

_"Its fine, Miss Black" he replied with a smile. "Your brother is in very capable hands," he added, nodding towards the already busy elf._

_"Thank you, Mr Potter," she said shyly. "I will make sure he doesn't cause you any trouble," she assured him, glaring at her injured brother. "I have to go," she suddenly remarked. "I have to go back to Hogwarts in a few days and have a lot of things I need to do."_

_"It's ok," Charlus replied. "I'll escort you back to the fireplace," he said offering his arm, which she took with a slightly shaky hand._

The memory again faded and came back into view only a few seconds later. Harry found himself in the same place and shot Arcturus a questioning look.

"We are now in a memory your Grandmother shared with me," he explained with an air of fondness. "I did not witness what transpired next. She shared it with me after a particularly difficult night, something we will get to a little later."

Harry nodded, a smile adorning his own face as he enjoyed the feeling of being within something of his Grandmother.

_Charlus and Dorea exited the room leaving an already sleeping Arcturus to start his recovery. They made their way slowly back to the drawing room, not saying a word, both seemingly content at the small amount of contact they were sharing. All too soon, they reached their destination both hesitating to release the touch of the other. When there was no longer an excuse to hold on to his arm, Dorea released her grip slowly and clearly with reluctance._

_"Thank you again Mr Potter," she said in her usual soft voice. "If you hadn't of gotten him back so fast, he wouldn't have survived the night," she explained grimacing at the thought. "Can I come and check on him tomorrow?" she asked hopefully._

_"You're welcome, Miss Black" he replied simply. "You can check on him anytime, the floo is open to you," he finished with a gentle smile._

_"Thank you," she said simply, returning his smile shyly. "Goodnight Mr Potter," she said, throwing a handful of floo powder into the fire._

_"Goodnight," he replied, "and Miss Black?" _

_"Yes, Mr Potter," she asked curiously._

_"I told you three years ago that it's Charlus to you, it always will be," he finished, his eyes twinkling as he smiled a little more._

_Dorea blushed and nodded before disappearing into the emerald flames._

Harry was suddenly pulled from the memory and found himself once again in the room he was staying in alongside Arcturus, who was rather melancholic.

"What happened next?" Harry asked timidly.

Arcturus looked at the boy in front of him, internally pleased with his curiosity about his grandparents and how they came to be the people who knew and loved.

"It took me three weeks to recover from that curse," he explained. "Dorea came back every day for the next three days before she went back to school and before she left, she lectured me and your grandfather," he said shaking his head in amused exasperation. "She knew regardless of what she said that I would go back. I was stubborn and pig-headed. There was nothing that would stop me going back to protect her and get my revenge, which I had more reason to get now after he used one of our own curses on me. She took Charlus aside a few times to talk to him but I don't know everything she said. I do know that she begged him not to lose himself because of revenge. He told me many years later that she told him he was a good man and it would be such a shame if he took his revenge and couldn't live with what he had done to get it after the war was over," he explained thoughtfully. "I'm sure she scolded him the way she did with me on a couple of occasions too," he added amusedly. "He came back after a conversation with her a few times looking like a child who had been given a talking to. I've never known Charlus to look like that since those times and I'm sure Dorea was the only one who could talk to him that way and get away with it. People respected and feared Charlus too much to even try that tact with him, but Dorea didn't care; she knew Charlus would never do anything to hurt her. You can see from that memory that he had quite the soft spot for her even though I'm sure she was unaware of it at the time. She felt something for him too but I think for her, she thought that there would never be a chance for them. There was no guarantee that Charlus would come back from the war and even if he did, she didn't think that a Potter would be interested in a Black. It was just not a possibility in her eyes. The backlash that Charlus would get from the lighter and neutral families would be astronomical. I know she thought of him though. She would often ask after him in her letters and I would often see him lost in thought during a lull in the battles with the same eyes he had when he was talking to Dorea. He never admitted it, but that look was reserved only for her," he finished, speaking more warmly than Harry had yet heard him.

He paused and went back to thinking for a few minutes before continuing.

"During the three weeks it took for me to recover, Charlus and I formed a tentative friendship. We found we had a lot in common and we were fighting for similar things. It was the second week that he truly surprised me though," he said extracting another memory and placing it into the pensieve. "This is a short memory, Mr Potter, but one that will give you a little more of an idea of the kind of man your Grandfather was," he said entering the pensieve.

Harry followed suit and found himself back in the bedroom they had left only minutes ago.

_The younger Arcturus was in the same bed but looking considerably healthier than he had in the last memory. He was sat reading from a book on duelling when Charlus entered the room._

_"Black," he greeted him in his usual tone. "If you're going to be coming back with me to fight then these spells will be useful for you to know," he said, handing Arcturus a small but thick leather-bound book._

_Arcturus looked at the book and his eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline at reading the title._

_"These are your family spells," he muttered, unable to hide the surprise in his voice._

_"They are," Charlus confirmed. "I just need your vow that you will not share this knowledge with anyone or use these spells against any member of the Potter family". _

_Arcturus hesitated for only a second before drawing his wand. He knew the Potter spells were designed for battle and it would give him much more of an advantage in the open fighting that was taking place._

_"I, Lord Arcturus Orion Black swear on my life and magic that I will not share the Knowledge of the Potter family magic with anyone nor will I use the spells against any and all members of the Potter family, so mote it be," he vowed being surrounded by a bright golden glow, sealing his oath._

_Charlus simply nodded and turned to leave when he was cut off by Arcturus._

_"Wait, Potter" he said, "Elgar" he called and a much younger looking Elgar appeared beside the bed._

_"What can Elgar be doing for Lord Black?" the elf asked._

_"Can you bring me the Black family spell book?" Arcturus questioned._

_The elf looked at Arcturus and then Charlus with confusion but obediently popped away returning a minute later carrying a similar book to the one that Charlus had given Arcturus._

_"Thank you, Elgar, that will be all," he said, dismissing the elf._

_"Here, Potter" he offered, handing the book to Charlus, who was confused but had a look of newfound respect for the other young man._

_"Share and share alike," Arcturus shrugged. "This has to stay between us though, I'm sure us sharing our family spells would not be well received," he pointed out. "But this is a dangerous war, what we share could save our lives and I fully intend on coming home when it is all said and done._

_"Of course," Charlus replied and gave the same oath Arcturus had moments ago. With that they settled down and began to read._

Harry was again pulled from the memory and looked at Arcturus questioningly. "Why would sharing spells be frowned upon?" he asked the older man.

"Family spells are created by the family and are supposed to remain a secret. They can offer you a distinct advantage in certain situations," he explained. "The Potter family magic is largely battle magic used in fights, not for duelling. The spells are designed to maim and kill. The Potters are renowned for having warriors in its lineage and their prowess on the battlefield is quite legendary. You saw for yourself what Charlus was capable of and a lot of that was the Potter magic," he elaborated.

Harry was surprised to learn that his family had their own magic but was more surprised at the nature of it.

"The Black magic is based mostly on curses. It's effective in battle too but focuses more on one to one fighting," Arcturus continued. "We shared our spells knowing that it would give us a whole new advantage. Your grandfather gained a great arsenal of curses and counter curses that would make any wizard envious. I gained the knowledge and spells of the best battle magic available and let me tell you, that book gave me spells that saved my life on numerous occasions," he said gravely. "We studied those books intently for the last two weeks and practiced each other's spells until we perfected them. For some reason, the different magic came easily to us, something we didn't understand at the time. We came to believe much later that we took to the different magic because we had formed a bond on the battlefield when we fought together for the first time. We both saved each other a few times that day. You saw how we fought together and how we shielded each other during the fight. It seems that from then, our magic connected in some way and made learning each other's family magic quite easy," he shrugged.

Harry nodded to show that he was still listening and again waited for the older man to finish his thoughts.

"We returned to Normandy when I had fully recovered and immediately Charlus was put in command of a foreign battle group of around 100 wizards and witches. He placed me as his second in command for reasons unknown to me and we fought side by side for the next two years. In that time, we fought together, ate together and slept in cots next to each other, often saving each other's lives and bonding in ways that can only be achieved in war. We garnered quite the reputation on the battlefield for being ruthless and even Grindelwald became wary of us. Since the day Charlus got him with that cutting curse, he avoided him. He knew that Charlus was not an easy fight and he couldn't afford another blow to his reputation. The war was finally going our way and we were pushing them further and further back and Grindelwald knew eventually he would have to confront our group personally. He did just that in his typically cowardly way," he spat, his voice laced with bitterness and venom.

He took a minute to compose himself and released a deep breath.

"We had finished fighting for another day and we returned to camp victorious. As we entered, Charlus was handed a letter that he read and simply fell to his knees. I tried to ask him what was wrong but I could get nothing from him. Eventually, he handed me the letter and the reason for his state was obvious; his mother had died of dragon pox the week before. He was distraught and I didn't know what to do for him. He said nothing and went to bed," he explained sadly.

He shook his head and shrugged.

"I woke up the next day expecting Charlus to have left to handle his Mothers' funeral, but he was still there and, on the surface,, he looked as he always did; calm and composed and ready for the day. The truth was, something had snapped within him. I could see it in his eyes that he wasn't really there. His mind was elsewhere and he was acting purely on instinct. We went into battle that day as we usually did and Charlus was even more merciless than I had ever seen him. I'd seen him use the Black spells often but he tended to avoid the darker ones that were designed to give a slow and painful death, but this time, it was different. He was different. He was so focused on punishing as many people as he could curse that his usual battle technique was abandoned. We would always fight side by side but on this day, try as I might, I simply could not keep up with him and that's when it happened," he said angrier than Harry had yet to see him.

Arcturus took another deep breath and swallowed.

"Grindelwald appeared out of nowhere behind Charlus," he said grimly. "I tried to get to him but I wasn't quick enough. Before I could get to him, Grindelwald had already fired the curse at Charlus' back and he dropped. I was sure he was dead and the bastard just laughed. I fired curses at him and he vanished like the cowardly shit he was," he continued, shaking with fury. "I managed to get to Charlus and was shocked to find him alive. I knew he only had minutes to live so I did all I could and apparated him to St Mungo's where Dorea had started her training to be a healer. We arrived there and I passed out from exhaustion. I wasn't as powerful as Charlus and was already exhausted from the battle. Apparating that distance is very draining and I woke up four days later to the news that Dumbledore had defeated Grindelwald in the time I had been unconscious. Charlus was still out of it and would be for a few days more. I knew he wouldn't take the news well and stayed with him knowing he would need someone to be there for him. He had just lost his mother and now his chance to avenge his father had been taken away," he explained, equally upset and angry.

"Dorea was with him the whole time," he continued. "I think if anyone tried to move her away, she would have hexed them something rotten," he mused aloud with a bark of laughter. "She was frantic with worry; he shouldn't have survived that curse but somehow he did. He was the toughest bastard I've ever known," he said more to himself. "I was too naïve at the time to see the way she looked at him, but she loved him, something I found out days later," he finished.

He drew another memory and placed it in the pensieve.

"If you learn anything from this memory let it be to never punish yourself for things you cannot control, Potter" he said sternly. "This is your Grandfather at the worst I have seen him" he finished again, sadness flashing across his eyes once more.

He entered the pensieve followed by an apprehensive Harry.

_They landed in a hospital ward in the dead of night. Only two of the beds were occupied; one just behind the pair with the curtains drawn and one in front that was occupied by Charlus with Dorea sat in the chair next to the bed._

_"You've been awake for three days, Charlus and not said a word, please talk to me," Dorea pleaded. "Tell me what's on your mind."_

_"It's over," he replied. "He took everything from me, even my chance to pay him back for what he did to my father. He cursed me from behind the same way and fled like a coward," he spat bitterly._

_"Does that really matter?" Dorea asked. "Isn't it enough to know that he's dead now and can't do to anyone else what he did to you?" she questioned him, still with a hint of pleading in her voice._

_"No, it's not enough" Charlus snapped. "I wanted to get the bastard myself for what he did to me and now there's nothing left. what can I do? How can I live with myself knowing I failed at the most important thing I'd ever have to do in my life?" he asked, almost begging her to give him something._

_"You find something else that can be that important to you," she said as though it was obvious. "Do you think your mother and father would want you to punish yourself for something you couldn't control? Grindelwald feared you Charlus, why do you think he avoided you? You already beat him long ago so you need to let. It. Go," she said emphasising every word with a sharp prod to his chest._

_"And what if I can't?" he whispered._

_"Then you will always be a bitter man who never got over himself," she answered. "Do you remember what I said to you when you brought Arcturus back to your house after he was injured?"_

_"You said a lot, Miss Black" he pointed out._

_"Don't be so petulant" She scolded. "I told you not to lose yourself in the pursuit of vengeance, do you remember? I told you you were too good a man to let that happen," she said repeating the words of years gone by._

_"I'm not a good man," he muttered. "I'm a failure. How can you even look at me when I can't even face myself without feeling ashamed?"_

_"Because I love you, you idiot," she blurted, grabbing hold of his hospital gown tightly. She took a deep breath and continued. "I've loved you since I was fourteen years old, since that day you saved me. I didn't fall in love with you because of what you did" she added. "I fell in love with you because I saw something special in you that I knew I would never see again. I saw a boy who defended me from his own, a boy who walked right into the enemy's common room and faced all of them down just to make sure that I was okay. I saw a boy who would do the right thing no matter what he had to do to get it done. I saw a boy who didn't care about my name or my family defend me when he could have just walked away and not get involved. I saw a boy that in that moment only cared about me and how I was and didn't care about the consequences. I saw a boy lose all the privileges he had worked hard for and who served detention for the rest of the year selflessly and never once wanted anything in return. In that boy I saw the man that you would become and I fell in love with you even more," she huffed breathily. "I tried not to love you" she continued. "I tried to block it out and wished so hard that those feelings would disappear because I knew I could never have you," she said, a flurry of tears gliding over her cheeks. "The only thing I wished for more was a way that I could have you and that you would return those feelings so we could be together," she finished, exhausted by the emotional outburst._

_They stayed silent for some time, Charlus trying to take in what he had heard and Dorea trying to compose herself. She eventually turned to look at him again, tears still in her eyes._

_"If you really have no other reason to live for but your petty vengeance then you really aren't the man I fell in love with," she said sadly. "The man I fell in love with wouldn't let one setback ruin his life, he would keep fighting for the people who can't fight for themselves as he always did before. If you can't do that, then you're clearly not the man I thought you were," she concluded, sounding broken hearted. With her piece said, she left the room and Harry felt himself pulled from the memory much to his dismay._

Harry sat on the edge of the bed again lost in his own thoughts. He was angry at his Grandfather for his pettiness. Throughout that memory, he himself had wanted to shake Charlus by the shoulders and scream for him to snap out of it and to stop being a prat. His thoughts were interrupted by Arcturus.

"I woke up the next morning and Charlus had disappeared," he said. "I was so mad at him; I knew he needed his space to deal with his issues but he broke my sisters' heart. I wanted to tear him limb from limb but, try as I might, I couldn't find him," he said sounding very annoyed. "Dorea was distraught but she hid it well from everyone, but she couldn't hide it from me. I could see it in her eyes how much it hurt her for him to leave like that and it made me even angrier at him. We carried on with our lives, there was little more we could do. Charlus had vanished and no one heard anything from him for a long time. Dorea carried on with her healer training and I went back to duelling, as I had always intended. It was six months later that I got a surprise by owl post. I had been made a Baron for my efforts during the war," he said proudly.

Seeing the confused look on Harry' face he explained further.

"Being a Baron means a lot more than being a Lord," he began. "Any idiot can be a lord as you can see by most of the morons, they have sat on the wizengamot," he grumbled with a sneer. "A lordship is an inherited title passed down to the head of the old families. It gives you a seat on the wizengamot and a single vote to vote on new laws and so on," he explained. "Being a Baron means that you are a protector of the land and of its people. You are given a seat on the wizengamot and three votes. You can only earn the title of Baron with exemplary battle skills and be a proven warrior. It is the greatest honour that can be bestowed on someone in the wizarding world. It's held in higher esteem than an order of Merlin. Charlus and I were to be the first two to receive the title in more than 400 years, it is a very rare honour and to have two people in one lifetime is almost unheard of," he finished, the pride still evident in his voice.

He again shook his head before a look of disappointment marred his features.

"I attended the award ceremony expecting to see Charlus, but he never showed. The minister at the time was furious and ordered me to track him down. I was still mad at him but Baron or not, the minister would have made my life difficult had I disobeyed. It took me two months of looking to locate him. I found him in Germany, a complete drunken mess," he explained with another shake of his head.

He put his wand to his temple and withdrew another memory and Harry knew he was about to be treated to a vision of his grandfather he was unlikely to be proud of.

_They entered the pensieve and appeared on a street outside a very rundown looking bar that would appear to be abandoned if not for the dim light that shone through the murky windows. They entered and Harry was not surprised to see that the inside was in no better condition than the outside. He spotted his Grandfather sat at a rickety table in the corner clearly inebriated, close to the point of losing consciousness._

_"Bring me more whisky," he shouted, spilling the contents of his already full glass._

_"I'm not serving you anything else, you drunken swine," the barman replied._

_Charlus was furious and drew his wand. Pointing it at the barman he spoke in a deadly quiet voice. "You'll give me what I ask for, you bastard, or I will end you where you stand."_

_The barman stepped back, the fear he felt evident. He gulped loudly but he wasn't going to back down. Before he could reply, a younger Arcturus appeared and placed a bag of coins in the barman's hand._

_"For a room," he said "and to clear his tab," he added jerking a thumb towards the drunken man that had once been his friend._

_The barman nodded and handed him a key. "Upstairs, second door on the left," he said before walking away quickly and busying himself behind the bar._

_Arcturus grabbed a heavily protesting Charlus and dragged him to the aforementioned room and threw him onto the small bed within. He drew his wand and aimed a heavy jet of water at his face. When he ceased his attack, he could see the shocked look on Charlus' face, which quickly turned to anger._

_"What the fuck are you doing here, Black?" he asked, his sopping hair and untamed beard dripping large amounts of water on the bed._

_"I was sent to get you," he answered simply. "Oh, and to give you this," he added, punching Charlus with all his might on the jaw._

_Charlus grunted in pain and looked up in shock. "You hit me," he said dumbly._

_"I did," Arcturus replied, rubbing his knuckles "and I think I'm going to do it again," he added, his anger rising once more._

_"Wait," Charlus said, holding up his hands. "Why are you hitting me?" he asked, confused._

_Arcturus looked at him incredulously. "You're asking why I'm hitting you?" he asked rhetorically. "You broke my sister's heart. She loves you, you bastard, and you walked away from her like she was nothing."_

_"She told you?" Charlus asked._

_"She hasn't said a word but I was awake the night she opened her heart to you and you just left," he answered shaking his head. "I see it in her eyes every day. She tries to hide it but I know her too well," he finished looking upset._

_"She deserves better than me," Charlus mumbled quietly to himself._

_"And who the fuck are you to decide what she deserves? It should be her choice who she wants to be with and hers only," Arcturus bit back._

_Charlus laughed bitterly. "And you would approve of me and your sister?" he asked sarcastically._

_"You and my sister? Never," he answered. "But my sister and the man I fought side by side for all that time? The man who watched my back as if it was his own? The man my sister spoke of that night in the hospital, that man would have my approval in a heartbeat, without hesitation," he said truthfully. "You're a fucking mess Charlus, pull yourself together and be the man you really are instead of the drunken slob sat in front of me and then you will deserve her. But right now, you don't, you're weak and a fucking coward."_

_Charlus simply looked down at the floor and when he didn't reply, Arcturus shook his head and left the room._

Once again, Harry was pulled from the memory feeling angry and disappointed in his grandfather.

"What the hell was wrong with him?" he growled. "He was pathetic."

"He was," Arcturus agreed. "War affects people in different ways but what you saw wasn't war related. That is ultimately what happens to you if you blame yourself for things you have no control over. The guilt consumes you and you become that," he said, pointing at the pensieve.

"So, what happened next?" Harry asked. "Obviously he came out of it but it can't have been that easy".

"No, it wasn't and it was a very close call," Arcturus responded. "I left Germany and went home to inform the minister that I had found him and that he was dealing with some personal issues. He wasn't happy but there was nothing more that could be done."

"I carried on with my life; running the family and duelling when time would allow me. It was almost a year after I had last seen Charlus that I received an unexpected owl from Gringotts." He frowned at the memory. "My father had apparently signed a marriage contract with the Selwyn family for any daughter of the Black family they thought suitable and it just so happens that they chose Dorea for their son, Marius," he said with disgust.

Harry looked horrified at the revelation, but kept quiet, waiting for Arcturus to continue.

"There were two ways out of the contract. Firstly, I could forfeit the Black lordship and the contents of the family vaults to them. This was something I was unwilling to do. I would not be the one to dishonour the family name that way. The family would become a disgrace and I refused to allow that to happen. I was proud to be a Black and was raised to hold those values until death," he said defiantly. "Secondly, I could duel to void the contract but it would be against a champion of their choice. The Selwyn's' themselves were excellent duellists and I knew if it wasn't a Selwyn then their champion would be extraordinary. This was the more viable option but there was a problem. I had only three days to do one or the other to void the contract or the wedding would go ahead. The real problem was that I had been injured the day before in a duel and my wand arm was in pieces, skelegro wasn't what it is now and would take a week to heal. But I decided I would fight with my off arm. My pride would not allow me to back down, so I sent off the owl with my decision," he finished. "This is what happened the day of the duel," he said after a moment drawing another memory with his wand and placing it in the pensieve.

They entered the memory and Harry found himself in what appeared to be a small Quidditch stadium, filled to capacity with around 3000 witches and wizards in attendance to watch the duel.

"This was the venue the Selwyns chose," Arcturus said from his right. "Duels like this were done publicly often. Especially duels of this magnitude. It was very rare that anyone was willing to duel a Black," he said knowingly. "I knew they were up to something. They wouldn't have accepted a duel with me if they didn't have a plan they truly believed would work."

_Harry took in his surroundings. In front of him was a large area marked out where the duel would take place. To his right he could see the younger Arcturus with a heavily bandaged arm placed in a sling looking nervous. Next to Arcturus was Dorea who looked nothing short of terrified, surrounded by what appeared to be the entirety of the Black family. The Selwyns were stood on the other side of the marked area looking very smug. Harry immediately disliked them all simply by how much they reminded him of the Malfoys. Harry could see Dorea and the younger Arcturus whispering furiously so he moved closer so he could listen._

_"Please, don't do this Arcturus," Dorea begged. "I'll marry their son you don't have to fight," she offered tearfully._

_"Yes, I do," was his simple reply. "If I don't then everyone will think they can treat us like this and I won't stand for it," he hissed. "Just let me handle it Dorea. It will be ok," he finished, turning away from her to face the Selwyns._

_Seeing that Arcturus was ready, the head of the Selwyn family stepped forward and raised his wand to his throat._

_"Ladies and Gentlemen, today you will bear witness to the embarrassment and humiliation of the Black family," he began gleefully. "A contract between our families was signed and that contract stated that we would be given any choice of any unmarried Black female, of our choice. We made our choice and that dishonourable family," he said pointing at the Blacks "have gone back on the word of their former head of house," he explained, eliciting a mass of jeering from the crowd. "He had a choice and could have simply forfeited the family title and wealth to myself and my family, but he chose to take the approach that would force my family to use violence, something we did not want," he said shaking his head in mock disgust. "However, it will not be a member of my family fighting this man today; I would not risk my blood against their dark magic, so I have found a willing champion who will fight for my family honour and the right to the stated marriage in the contract," he announced, bowing to the crowd. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I give to you, representing the Selwyn family, the undefeated warrior, Hans Gaulitier," he finished with a flourish._

_The crowd was in what appeared to be stunned silence and Harry looked at Arcturus questioningly._

_"Gaulitier was Grindelwald's right-hand man during the war and escaped justice through bribery and corruption" he said bitterly. "He was a disgusting pig, famous for his brutality and sickening perverse tendencies. Rape, murder and torture were his forte and that was before he aligned himself with Grindelwald. He was feared across the continent and the Selwyns would have had to pay him a fortune for him to fight for them. Brutality, no matter how disgusting, at that level does not come cheap," he said with a grimace. "Using him became the Selwyns' downfall, they had exposed themselves as a dark family and have not recovered since."_

_A giant of a man entered the stadium into pure silence but he seemed not to notice the crowd any way. He looked as though he was taking a leisurely stroll, not going into battle. He was as almost as big as Hagrid but with less hair and very ugly to boot. He wore nothing on his top half but wore brown trousers with charcoal boots on his feet. He was very well built with well-conditioned, defined muscles. He had various scars on his torso and face and his head was completely hairless and shaped like an egg. He looked like a simple brute but his eyes had intelligence to them that Harry did not expect to see. Even he knew in his very limited experience that he would be a formidable opponent._

_By now Dorea was beside herself and inconsolable. The rest of the Blacks looked a mixture of horrified and nervous. Arcturus stepped forward apprehensively but also determined. He knew there was no backing down now. Upon seeing his arm in a sling, the brute of a man laughed and turned to the Selwyns._

_"What's this?" he questioned them, clearly annoyed. "You promised me a real fight and yet you hand me a cripple."_

_"You're quite right," the head of the Selwyn family said amused and allowed himself a pompous chuckle. "It would not be fair for you to fight a cripple. Black" he called in an amplified voice, "my champion is unwilling to fight a cripple, can you offer an alternative?" he laughed again._

_He offered the Blacks the chance to have someone fight for them knowing they were very unpopular in the wizarding community, despite Arcturus being a Baron, a title that many thought he had bought or obtained through dubious dealings. He laughed again, knowing no one would willingly fight his champion for all the money in Gringotts. He turned and addressed the crowd in a confident and cocky manner._

_"Is there anyone who will fight for the cripple and his dishonourable family?" he asked the crowd mockingly. Silence followed his question. "Surely there's someone with a death wish out there, you may even earn a favour from the Black family," he mocked._

_Many in the crowd laughed at his quip and then began to talk amongst themselves. Arcturus growled at Selwyn and his antics, furious that the man was treating the situation so light-heartedly._

_"I'll fight for them," an amplified voice suddenly broke through the murmurings of the crowd._

_Selwyn looked momentarily shocked before smirking and addressing the crowd once more._

_"Ahh we have a corpse, I mean volunteer," he mock-corrected. "Well then, step forward my brave fellow and make yourself known."_

_A section of the crowd parted to reveal a very intense looking Charlus Potter._

_Harry gasped at the difference in the man. He had packed on several pounds of muscle and the fire in his eyes was ferocious, even more so than he had seen it before. His hair was still messy but had been cut short and he was clean-shaven, no longer the drunken mess he had seen in the previous memory._

_The crowd was shocked into silence, both by someone being foolish enough to volunteer and by the fact that it was a Potter stepping in to defend a Black._

_Arcturus was simply stunned. He had not seen Charlus in a year and clearly, he had been very busy. He watched as Charlus approached, looking every part the man he knew he should be._

_Dorea appeared to be torn. She was a mixture of happiness, her eyes alight with the love she still felt for him, but her face was a mask of anger. She sat completely, still not being able to decide between pummelling him and jumping in his arms._

_The rest of the Black family were equally shocked and confused. They were unaware that a friendship existed between Arcturus and Charlus and simply could not understand why a Potter would fight for their family when they had always somewhat been at odds._

_"Baron Black," Charlus acknowledged his old friend with a nod._

_"Baron Potter," Arcturus returned the formal greeting. "What are you doing, Charlus?" he asked quietly._

_"I'm fighting for those that can't fight for themselves as I always have," Charlus replied, nodding towards his injured arm. "And I'm watching your back, as if it was my own," he added replaying Arcturus' own words back to him._

_Arcturus shook his head. "You don't have to do this," he said. "This is a family duel and you're committing social and political suicide by siding with us."_

_"Of course, I have to do it," Charlus remarked, "we always went into battle together why should we break tradition now?" he asked with a mischievous grin._

_Arcturus shook his head again, still in disbelief by the appearance of Charlus._

_"Well, good luck Charlus," he offered, extending his hand which his friend took. "If that bastard doesn't kill you, my sister looks like she wants to give it a try," he added in amusement, nodding over Charlus shoulder towards his now shaking sister._

_Charlus gulped and pulled Arcturus closer. "Is it strange that I'm more frightened of her than that big pile of shit back there?" he asked, only half joking._

_Arcturus let out a bark of laughter. "No," he replied shaking his head "That means you've got your priorities about right," he said chuckling._

_Charlus smirked at his friend before turning to face his foe, the amusement in his face being replaced by a look of determination, his magic stirring in his eyes._

_The joviality of the Selwyn family had well and truly finished when Charlus appeared, they all now appeared to be concerned and angry. Selwyn Sr in particular was beside himself._

_"What concern is this of yours, Potter?" he spat venomously._

_Charlus sent him a death glare that caused the other man to flinch._

_"Well, Selwyn, I have reasons which I will not share with you. Other than those, when you bring a murdering rapist and vile creature like that," he said pointing at Gaulitier, "into our country, then it's my duty as a Baron to deal with it, is it not?" he asked ,glowering at the colossal man._

_Gaulitier was furious. No one dared mock him the way Potter was. He had heard of Potter and knew he was in for a real fight if his skill was on par with only half of what his reputation was. He was silently fuming now, waiting for what could be the fight of his life. He was both nervous and excited, the feeling before a worthy battle, a feeling he was no longer familiar with._

_Charlus turned back to a nervous looking Selwyn. "Rules?" he asked casually._

_Before Selwyn could reply Gaulitier screamed. "There are no rules here, Potter."_

_He charged forward attempting to tackle Charlus to the ground. The smaller man simply side stepped the behemoth and as he landed on his front in the dirt, he threw a cutting curse and a stinging hex that connect on his rear end. The man roared in pain and fury and shot to his feet again in the blink of an eye._

_The younger Arcturus on the side-lines face-palmed, shaking his head in his hand an action mimicked by the older one stood next to Harry who was shocked._

"Why would he use a stinging hex?" he asked, confused.

"An angry opponent makes mistakes," was Arcturus' simple reply.

_Harry turned back towards the action and was simply amazed at what he was seeing. The giant man had drawn his wand and was firing an array devastating curses and jinxes towards Charlus who was simply dodging and twirling with the grace of a ballerina to avoid them. Try as he might, the man just could not hit Charlus and it only infuriated him more._

_Charlus began to fire back while still maintaining his dodging and footwork. It was spectacular to see. The speed and the power of his spells was magnificent and Harry was completely amazed by his Grandfather. He landed two Bonebreaker curses on the giants off arm that resounded with loud enough cracks to be heard throughout the entirety of the stadium. The man screamed in pain as the broken bones punctured the skin for all to see. His own rhythm was only interrupted for a brief second at this set back before he was back at his own powerful spell casting, still failing to hit his faster and magically more powerful opponent._

_He suddenly stopped his casting and focused his power before whipping his arm upwards in a vertical motion. Stone spikes began to erupt from the ground attempting to impale Charlus, who simply looked amused._

_He levitated himself wandlessly above the battleground to the surprise of the crowd. He swept his wand across the field and the spikes crumbled to a fine dust which he gathered up with a gust of wind from his wand. He twirled it in a semi-circle repeatedly and the debris of the conjured spikes formed a tornado that Charlus sent towards his foe while lowering himself to the ground. Upon landing, he switched control of the tornado to his wandless hand and fired a thick jet-black fog into the twister from his wand. The tornado wrapped itself around the huge man who began to look concerned._

_Charlus then conjured an equally black stream of fire that he sent into the swirling vortex also, followed by a wave of green fire. The two flames snaked into the wind remaining separate but flowing in tandem with one another. The effect was as beautiful as it was dangerous. With a flick of his wand the twister imploded and cascaded to the ground as though it was constructed of water._

_What remained of the man that had been trapped within was quite the gruesome sight. Gaulitier was covered in blackened, seared flesh that was smoking and giving off a sweet sickly smell that filled the stadium. The crowd had expected to see a duel but what they were witnessing was a real fight. Amongst the shocked faces the sound of vomiting could be heard and many covered their ears from the screaming that was coming from the still-smoking form._

_The Blacks were looking at Arcturus questioningly, knowing that the black flame and the fog were family spells. Arcturus simply shrugged his shoulders at their looks and turned once more to face the battle._

_Charlus stood just glaring at the man looking as dangerous as Harry had ever seen him. This was why he was respected and this was why he was feared with a wand. He was terrifying but at the same time, knowing he was a good man was equally comforting. He was not dark nor evil but did what was necessary to survive and to protect those around them._

_It was at this moment that he knew who the voice belonged to who spoke alongside his Mother after he had been hit by Riddle's killing curse; it was Charlus, it was his Grandfather who had told him what he was and what he should do to ensure he survived. It made sense to him now, seeing what Charlus had been through and what he had done. It was justice and to him it was necessary. Harry knew if he was to survive what was to come, let alone without too much pain, then he had to be like Charlus, he had to do what was necessary to survive and protect those he cared for._

_Gaulitier suddenly launched a blasting curse towards Charlus that was too large to dodge as he had been, so he hastily raised a shield that didn't quite manage to absorb the whole of the spell. He was blown off his feet from the force of the magic and landed on his back with a loud thud followed by a crack._

_The crowd gasped thinking that he had been bested but as soon as he landed, he rolled and nimbly sprung back to his feet, though he was breathing heavily._

_He was clutching his ribs in pain and quickly pointed his wand at his torso and muttered a spell. A loud crunch was heard as his ribs returned to their correct place. He conjured a bandage that tightly wound itself around his torso as he grimaced and gritted his teeth in pain._

_He looked furious and his hair and clothes began to ripple in the magic that was escaping him._

_He stalked towards a now standing Gaulitier, batting the spells aside that the German was firing at him. He conjured a bright ball of light and with a flick of his wand he sent it towards his opponent's face. Gaulitier shielded, attempting to block the unknown spell, but to no avail. The ball simply penetrated the shield as though it wasn't there._

_The bright light stung his eyes but that was it all seemed to do. In his temporarily blinded state, he did not see Charlus conjure two silver arrows and banish them towards him._

_As his eyes began to clear he felt the pain in his knees as the arrows entered through the front and exited through the back. He suddenly found himself wandless as a bone exploding hex hit his hand, sending his means to defend himself some feet away. He knew he was beaten._

_After he saw his hex hit the man's hand and he knew he was no longer armed, he paused contemplating what he should do next. He came to a decision and fired off his curse of choice; a Castration Hex._

_The German screamed in pain as the hex connected and he felt the blood seep from the gaping wound in what was left of the masculine appendage. Before he could mourn his loss, he found himself bound by his arms and legs by a thick, black wire adorned with spikes that cut deeply into his already burnt flesh. He whimpered in pain unable to talk. He chanced a look at Potter and saw that he was walking away. He breathed a sigh of relief that he had been left alive but soon found himself wondering if he would better off dead._

Harry was again feeling nauseas at the sight of so much gore and couldn't help but think that his Grandfather had perhaps gone too far. Arcturus seemed to read his thoughts and cut his thoughts short.

"Charlus lived by his own code of morals. Gaulitier raped, murdered and tortured hundreds of defenceless wizards, witches and muggles for fun and what Charlus did was give what he thought was suitable justice," he said firmly. "Everyone knew what Gaulitier had done and he somehow escaped justice and Charlus was a just man, he did what was right in his own mind. He didn't kill him but he took away his ability to cause the same harm to others that he had before and let him know what it was like to feel the kind of pain he had inflicted. It taught him a lesson in a brutal way and it worked, after this day, Gaulitier was never heard from again," he finished, his eyes boring into Harry's.

_Harry nodded knowing that the older man was speaking the truth. Charlus was simply doing what he felt was right. He clearly did not enjoy it but he did it out of necessity. He turned again to see Charlus approaching Arcturus, but before he could get there, he was cut off by a shaking and teary-eyed Dorea._

_"Charlus Potter," she hissed, staring at him through narrowed eyes._

_"Hello, Miss Black," he replied, nervously dragging his hand through his hair._

_"Hello Miss Black?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest and raising a single eyebrow. "That's all you have to say after all this time, after I opened my heart to you, spilled my deepest feelings for you and you left. That's all you have to say?"_

_By now the entire crowd was watching the surprising encore._

_"I'm Sorry," Charlus replied quietly._

_"Oh, you're sorry, are you?" she asked rhetorically, walking forward and backing Charlus up with repeated sharp pokes to the chest. "And what exactly are you sorry for?"_

_"Everything," he answered solemnly. "I'm sorry for leaving and I'm sorry for hurting you. More than anything, I'm sorry for losing myself the way I did after you asked me not to and becoming what I did," he said sincerely looking her in the eyes. "My biggest regret though is not taking you in my arms that night in the hospital and telling you that I love you too, with all my heart and that I always have, since that day in your common room when you looked at me as though you didn't want to leave my arms," he finished taking her hands in his._

_"I didn't want to," Dorea whispered. "It felt so right being there," she continued, more to herself than to anyone else. "What brought you back?"_

_"The love of a beautiful woman and the words of a brother," he answered, nodding towards Arcturus. "And a good punch to snap me out of it he added," looking quite embarrassed._

_Dorea looked sharply at her brother who looked sheepish under her glare before she turned back to Charlus._

_"What if it's too late?" What if I can't forgive you? And what if it's not what I want anymore?" she asked, looking at him intently._

_Charlus took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment before answering. "Then I will have to accept that, but I will never stop trying to be the man you deserve. I made that mistake once and I won't let that happen again," he vowed. "If my mistake has already cost me you, then so be it," he shrugged. "I have to live with that but it won't stop me from loving you," he finished his eyes sparkling with unshed tears._

_Dorea was openly crying not able to keep her tears at bay any longer. "Why did you fight today?" she asked. "Did you fight for me?"_

_He swallowed deeply before answering. "No" he answered. "I didn't fight for you. I was hoping I still had your heart and that giving you mine would be enough," he said. "I fought for your brother because it was the right thing to do. I fought for a friend and a brother of mine seeing that he wasn't able to, to the best of his ability," he explained, motioning to Arcturus' arm. "I fought in the hope that had our roles been reversed, he would still fight for me the way we always fought for each other," he added with a hopeful look towards his friend who simply nodded in reply._

_"You really mean that?" Dorea asked evenly._

_Charlus nodded his reply, maintaining eye contact with the woman who held his happiness in her hands. In a blur, she had thrown herself in his arms and began to sob uncontrollably. A shocked Charlus hesitated only a moment before wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her hair and holding on as though he would never let go._

_"That's the man I fell in love with," Dorea mumbled into his chest._

_There was no cheering from the crowd. They were shocked into silence by the sight of a Black in the arms of a Potter. Never had any in attendance ever considered they would see such a sight._

_The Blacks were equally shocked at the sudden turn of events. They looked at each other dumbfounded, unable to form a coherent sentence between them. One of them managed to find her voice, finally breaking the silence._

_"Would someone care to explain just what is going on?" she demanded._

_"It's ok Cassie," Arcturus replied, "I'll explain everything later," he told his older sister firmly, not wanting to discuss it in such a public forum._

_"You're ok with this?" she asked him quietly._

_Arcturus looked at her calculatingly before replying. "Yes," he answered shortly. "Can you think of a better man for her," he asked nodding towards Dorea._

_"Dorea?" She called to her sister who extracted herself from Charlus' chest, smiling contentedly. "Do you really love him?" she asked._

_Dorea looked up at Charlus, then back to her sister and nodded. "I do," she said quietly. Cassiopeia looked at the other members of her family and just shrugged in acceptance._

_"I told you all that I won't pick your spouses for you or sign any contracts," Arcturus said. "I meant that, and if Dorea chooses to be with Charlus, then that's her choice and we will all accept that," he added firmly. "He has my approval. I can think of no other man I would trust with Dorea. He fought for us today because it was the right thing to do and he has fought with me dozens of times before. He shared his family magic with me willingly so I would be a better fighter and we have saved each other's live countless times over the years."_

_"You showed him our family magic, didn't you?" Cassiopeia asked. "That's where he learnt those spells."_

_"Yes, I did," Arcturus confirmed unashamedly. "We shared our magic. It was war and we took every advantage we could," he said standing firm under the glare of some of his family members._

_"And you trust him?" Cassiopeia hissed the question at her brother._

_"With my life," came the reply, "As I have several times. And besides, we both gave magical vows that we would not share the knowledge with anyone or use family magic against each other or family."_

"_He agreed to that?" Cassiopeia questioned incredulously._

_"We both did," Arcturus answered._

_"Wait a minute" Charlus cut in looking annoyed. "That's why you punched me isn't it?" he asked. "You couldn't hex me so you hit me like a common thug."_

_"You deserved it" Arcturus replied with a grin._

_Charlus just shrugged in reply._

_The back and forth between the two was cut short when they were interrupted by the sound of a cough coming from the gathered Black family members._

_Charlus turned to see a woman standing amongst them who clearly was not one of them. She had dark brown hair and hazel eyes with pale skin. She was delicate looking and quite beautiful in her own right. She was fairly short and petite with a look of intelligence. She was smiling softly. Arcturus took her hand drawing her closer before addressing Charlus._

_"This," he said motioning to the woman "Is my fiancé, Melania," he introduced her._

_"Baron Potter," she greeted him with a slight curtsey. "I've heard a lot about you."_

_"Ahh, well you shouldn't believe anything he tells you," he said pointing at Arcturus. "He's reckless and you can't believe a reckless man," he explained eliciting a huff from the other man._

_"I am not reckless," Arcturus retorted._

_"Yes, you are," Dorea cut in._

_Arcturus frowned at his sister._

_Melania laughed before addressing Charlus again. "I assure you Baron Potter I have heard only good things about you from him," she assured him, smiling gently._

_"Then he is the most honest man I know and you should believe everything he's told you," he replied, earning a laugh from both women._

_"When did this whole thing become about me?" Arcturus asked petulantly._

_Charlus laughed at his friend._

_"Don't worry Arcturus," Dorea consoled him, "I haven't even started with Potter yet. Don't think you're off the hook," she finished looking sternly at the now horrified man._

_It was Arcturus' turn to be amused by his friends' expression. "Baron Charlus Potter," he mocked, "Will fight any man with a wand, but fears my little sister."_

_"I don't know why you're laughing, Arcturus Black," Melania interrupted, glaring at the man. "Do you really think you're off the hook for putting me through what you have the last three days?" she asked in a scolding fashion. "Thinking about fighting that brute with your off hand," she added shaking her head and linking arms with Dorea. "You really are a reckless prat," she finished leading Dorea away from the two, now very cowed men._

_The two men shared a knowing look before Arcturus broke the silence._

_"Do you really think you can handle my sister?" he asked only half-jokingly._

_"Do you really think you can handle your fiancé?" Charlus retorted._

_Both men shrugged._

_"We can still hear you," a feminine voiced carried to them from somewhere ahead._

_They both cringed and hurried to catch up to the departing women._

They were pulled from the memory and Harry once again felt proud of his Grandfather and what he had done.

"Do you have other memories of them?" he asked, eager to see more.

The older man looked at the teen for some time before answering.

"I have hundreds of memories of them but it is mostly day to day stuff. We can look at more later," he said, placating the boy who looked disappointed. "I simply wanted you to understand where you come from and the kind of man your grandfather was."

"What happened to them?" Harry asked tentatively. "How did they die?".

Arcturus looked sad and stayed silent for several minutes before answering. "Dorea was a healer as you know. Just before you were born there was a wizard flu pandemic and she caught the illness badly," he sighed. "She recovered from it fairly well but she was severely weakened by it. She stayed alive long enough to see you born and lived to hold you as she wanted to. She died a few months after you were born," he explained sadly, suddenly looking very old.

He paused to compose himself.

"Charlus lived for Dorea and when she passed, he was never the same. He stopped taking care of himself and deteriorated. This was when Riddle was becoming a real problem. Everyone knew of Charlus and his prowess with a wand and Riddle knew he would never convince him to work with him so he tried to take him out," he spat in distaste.

Harry looked nothing short of murderous. He felt his magic responding to his anger and he wanted nothing more than to curse Riddle into oblivion.

Arcturus saw the look and was again reminded of his friend.

"He tried to attack Charlus but Charlus, even though he wasn't the same man he had been, fended him off, but not before being hit with a slow acting curse that stopped the blood circulating properly," he said shaking his head. "Charlus knew about the curse but he didn't see any reason to get it healed. I'm sure he was content to pass on and be with Dorea again. Though I know if he knew what would happen to your father and mother, he would have done everything he could to stop Riddle."

"Why couldn't my Dad fight like him?" Harry asked quietly. "I've heard their last moments and my Dad didn't last two minutes against Riddle."

Arcturus looked at the boy with something akin to horror but quickly composed himself before answering.

"They were different men born in different eras. Charlus was born into a war and James was born in a time of peace. I think Charlus wanted his son to have a normal childhood and not be raised the way he was. Had he known what was coming, it would have been different. Riddle was just a whisper in the distance until James was in his fifth year and even then, none of us expected him to become the problem he did," he explained. "James was much more like Dorea than he was Charlus. He was not raised to be a fighter and Dorea doted on him and was his biggest influence. Don't get me wrong, your father was a gifted wizard by what I saw and heard but he and that idiot Grandson of mine spent their time joking around. If they put half the effort into the type of training I and Charlus had instead of their games then I have no doubt they would have both been extremely formidable in battle. Whatever you do, don't hold what happened to your parents against them. There was little to do to prevent it. Once Riddle has an idea, it's near impossible to stop him, he is persistent. Use it Potter, use what happened to your family to push you to succeed."

"What can I do?" Harry asked lamely.

"You fight. You fight for all you're worth and with everything you have. Fight for the memory of your family and fight for your life and your future. Fight the way your Grandfather did. I believe everyone should be their own man but if you aspire to be anyone or want someone to look up to then look no further than your Charlus, you couldn't find a better role model. He was the best man I knew and ever will know. I see him in you, Potter. You're like him more than you know. Honour him, your grandmother and your parents the way they deserve. Do not die for nothing but if you must die, you die facing your foes on your feet, looking them in the eyes. Never on your knees. Riddle saw your Grandfather in you that night and he knows what you can be capable of if you want to be," he finished sternly.

"But how can I be like him, how can I learn that kind of magic," Harry asked pleadingly.

"By training," Arcturus replied simply.

He opened the draw on the bedside table and pulled out a weathered thick, leather bound book and handed it to Harry.

"This is one of only two copies of this book. It contains both the Black and Potter magic. Charlus and I created them many years ago and added to them throughout the years. Whatever is written in one will appear in the other and they are charmed so that only we, or a combination of both Potter and Black blood can open them," he said proudly. "Read it, learn it and practice it. It's all the magic you will ever need to win a fight."

Harry looked at the book in awe.

"Thank you," he whispered gratefully.

"You're welcome," Arcturus replied, pleased to see the boy appreciated the book so much. "Now, it's time we get some sleep, we are going to be very busy from now on," he said making his way to the door.

"Was there anything my Grandfather wasn't good at?" Harry asked unexpectedly.

Arcturus smirked at the question. "Potions," he replied. "He could do mind-blowing things with a wand but put him in front of a cauldron and it was likely to explode or melt," he said shaking his head. "Dorea never let him forget his ineptitude with potions," he added amusedly as he left the room.

Harry looked at the book Arcturus had given him in amazement and anticipation. He gently stroked the front cover with his fingertip only to snatch it away after a sharp pain caught him by surprise. He sucked his bleeding finger as the book glowed gold before opening on his lap. He was too awake to sleep. He needed time to absorb and digest everything he had heard and seen of his family so settled down and began to read.


	3. Embrace Who You Are

**A/N**

**A few minor changes in this chapter. The more major ones will come as the story develops. I will focus on improving the romantic aspect and Harry's growth a little more in this version along with some other things.**

**A new chapter of TGITG will be with you soon.**

Chapter 3: Embrace Who You Are

The past few days had contained a multitude of emotions for Sirius Black. He had been; proud, worried, angry, anxious and fearful. His usual easy-going demeanour had been discarded and he had been short tempered and irritable. Overall, he felt useless. He was currently waiting for the first meeting of the Order of the Phoenix to begin and was sat tapping the top of the kitchen table with his forefinger impatiently.

He glanced at the members and couldn't help but feel disappointed at what Dumbledore had managed to bring to the cause. On his left, sat Remus Lupin, who was in a similar mood to himself. He had been silent for the most part but occasionally his eyes would become wolfish, would turn a dangerous amber colour and he would grit his teeth in frustration and apprehension.

Next along were Molly and Arthur Weasley with their son Bill. Molly appeared to be constantly on the verge of tears and her husband had an ever-present arm around her shoulders to calm her worry. Bill was quiet, observant and Sirius could see he was like neither of his parents and could maybe be a good ally to have on side, particularly as he worked alongside the Goblins and was a very skilled Cursebreaker.

Next to Bill was Kingsley Shacklebolt, a large soft-featured dark-skinned man who was a very accomplished auror. His presence made sense to Sirius; he was someone who could fight.

Next was his cousin Nymphadora Tonks whom he hadn't seen since she was a small child. She seemed nervous to be there and would often shoot him a shy smile that he would return as best he could. She too was an auror, though not as seasoned as the former.

The man next to her made the most sense to him, Mad-eye Moody. He was a very decorated auror himself and was a real asset in the last war. He was not a man to be crossed and had no qualms about hurting or killing those who threatened him in any way. Sirius was wary of him and respected his prestige and reputation. He sat in silence, his magical eye taking in everyone and everything around him.

Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape were next along the table, the latter looking bored, allowing his eyes to roam everywhere but on to Sirius or Remus. There was simply too much animosity there to expect anything else. Minerva was her usual calm self and no expression could be gleaned from her.

The rest of the group seemed to be little more than a few office workers and ministry staff who, to Sirius, could offer very little to the group. The only exception was Mundungus Fletcher who had his finger in every despicable pie in the black market. He was a cowardly sneak thief all in all and the best that could be got from him would be information.

Sirius glanced at the discarded newspaper on the table and shook his head at it disgustedly. The front page was visible and the headline of the day had served little more than to annoy him further.

_Dumbledore Claims the Return of You-Know-Who_

The article was nothing more than a character defamation piece accusing Dumbledore of finally going insane, that he should be stripped of all his titles and apologise for scaremongering. It was of course endorsed by the minister himself who dismissed the claims as all thought he would.

Sirius knew the coming war would be messy, especially if Fudge was unwilling to accept what had happened. This meant that only those in the room were fighting against Voldemort and that simply was not enough.

He shook his head again, frustrated at the situation.

He himself felt next to useless, as he couldn't even take an active part due to his current status. If he was able, he would be out looking for his Godson and had attempted to several times, not caring if he was captured. It had been Remus who had stopped him, reminding him of how his recklessness before had landed him in Azkaban in the first place. He reluctantly stayed put hoping that Dumbledore would bring news. His thoughts were interrupted by the man himself who had entered the room looking as calm as ever despite the slanderous article still laid before them.

He took a seat at the head of the table and smiled gently at those present before addressing them.

"Firstly, I would like to thank you all for coming tonight," he started, bowing his head to those in attendance.

Before he could continue however, a clearly worried Sirius cut him off.

"Where is Harry?" he asked, clearly fearful of the condition of his godson.

"This whole thing isn't about Potter, Black," Snape spat. "This is about the Dark Lord returning. Just because Potter has decided to disappear and sulk it doesn't mean we should be wasting our time looking for the brat," he finished feeling smug at the horror on his childhood foes face.

Sirius exploded to his feet, his face twisted into a look of unadulterated hatred and rage. All present were reminded of the fact the he was a Black, the easy-going prankster nowhere to be seen. What stood in front of them was a man close to the edge, a man bordering on instability. They could almost feel his rage leak from him and they blanched at his fury. When he spoke, his voice was quiet and dangerous but carried to all those in the room with ease.

"I don't give a fuck about you; I don't give a fuck about this war and I don't give a fuck about anything else. The only thing I want is my godson back," he said choking at his own mention of Harry. "When he does come back, I will be taking him away from here to be somewhere safe where he doesn't have to worry about any of this."

Remus put a calming hand on his forearm and looked imploringly at him. Sirius breathed deeply before taking his seat and looked at Dumbledore expectantly, who sighed deeply before answering the emotional man.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, my boy," the headmaster began tentatively. "If you knew Harry then you would know that he would not leave while Voldemort is alive and it would not be fair for you to take away his chance to avenge his family name."

Everyone in attendance was in shock. Did Dumbledore truly expect Harry to fight and defeat Voldemort? Did the usual man of peace just talk of allowing a mere boy to avenge his family through killing?

The mood at the table had taken a sudden turn and each wanted to voice their opinion on the matter. The first to speak was Molly Weasley.

"You can't be serious, Albus," she despaired. "He's just a poor boy, surely you can't expect him to face that monster alone. What on earth would give you that idea?" she finished quite hysterically.

Snape was the next to put his view forward.

"Potter?" he laughed. "You really think that Potter is capable of killing the Dark Lord? Tell me you're joking," he said almost pleadingly.

Upon seeing the serious expression on Dumbledore's face, he continued.

"You're serious, aren't you? You really think Potter can do it," he said sceptically. He shook his head but remained silent in his disbelief. Before anyone else could speak, Dumbledore put an end to the dissent with his commanding voice.

"Enough," he said almost angrily. "There are things you don't understand that I have to discuss with Harry before I discuss with anyone else," he said firmly. He raised his hand to cut off any protest that would surely be made. "It is his right to know before anyone else and that's all I will say on the matter for the time being." he concluded.

"You still haven't told us where Harry is," Remus cut in sounding desperate.

Dumbledore sighed again.

"I can only tell you what I know for certain," he said. "I should start from the night Harry went missing so you can all understand as much as possible."

He now had the undivided attention of the room and began his explanation.

"On the night of the final task, Harry and young Mr Diggory both took the cup at the centre of the maze and were transported to a graveyard in Little Hangelton. During their time there, Mr Diggory was hit with the killing curse. Voldemort then completed a ritual to gain a body back using his father's bone, flesh willingly given and blood of an enemy, Harry's blood."

All in the room looked disgusted upon hearing the description of the ritual and many faces were horrified at the implications. Dumbledore spoke again before he could be interrupted.

"From the state the Graveyard was in, it is clear that quite a violent fight took place between Harry and Voldemort, and from what I could see, Harry certainly fought valiantly." he said with pride in his voice. "From here, it becomes difficult to decipher what happened. I do know that the Cruciatus curse was used quite liberally as was the killing curse," he explained tiredly.

The expressions of those around him were even more horrified than they had been previously. He held up a hand again to quell any interruptions.

"Please, let me finish. From what I could gather, two people were killed there that night but there was no other body present. It is possible that Harry killed one of the Death Eaters and they simply took the body when they left, but that is not what I think happened," he said, placating those who looked worried at the thought of Harry having to take a life.

"You think Potter was hit with another killing curse, don't you?" Minerva asked. eliciting several gasps and concerned looks from many at the table.

"I do," he said simply. "But," he continued before anyone else could speak, "Harry is very much alive," he informed them confidently.

Everyone at the table breathed a sigh of relief at his proclamation.

"How?" Sirius managed to rasp through his emotional state. "Surely he's not immune to the curse," he added.

"Again, that is something I have to discuss with Harry but no, I do not believe Mr Potter is immune," he said sounding slightly amused. "If what I think has happened then Mr potter will be feeling better than he ever has and I expect we will see a lot of changes in him. His magical signature was very strong within the graveyard and it was not simple passive magic, it was mature and powerful and very much defiant," he chuckled gaining a few strange looks from some. "Mr Potter was clearly very angry during a large part of the confrontation and his magic responded quite spectacularly, I must say. He did not submit as almost everyone would. He faced Voldemort the way I would expect him to."

"Where the hell is he, Dumbledore?" Sirius again cut in.

The amusement Dumbledore had exhibited was now gone.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "When I arrived at the graveyard he was already gone and all that was left behind, was this," he said removing the two halves of Harry's wand from his pocket and placing them on the table which Sirius immediately snatched up.

"His wand," he croaked. "How the hell is he alive?" he asked desperately.

He suddenly looked very fearful.

"You-know-who must have him," he finished standing and beginning to pace.

"The Dark Lord does not have him," Snape said firmly. "He was taken from the Graveyard as the killing curse was fired at him. Someone broke the wards around the area and fired off some fog to block out the Dark Lord and apparated in and took Potter," he explained. "He is convinced that his curse hit and that Potter is dead wherever he is. He has no idea who it was, but we can be sure that it was a powerful wizard who broke wards erected by the Dark Lord himself."

"So, how do you know that Harry is alive?" Sirius asked, pointing at Dumbledore.

"Two reasons," the older man began. "Firstly, the blood wards around his home are still intact. If Harry were to die, they would collapse immediately. And secondly," he sighed knowing more questions would be asked, "the night of the leaving feast, I received what I thought was a howler that turned out to be an audio message of some kind. It was from whomever has Harry, stating that he is safe and sound. It was sealed with a magical vow."

Sirius sagged in relief momentarily before the questions began to run through his mind. Before he could ask, he was beaten to it by Remus who was looking relived and curious.

"Who was it from?" he asked Dumbledore.

"I can't be sure," the headmaster answered honestly. "But the voice seemed somewhat familiar to me," he added, frowning deeply.

"Well, what can we do?" Tonks asked, speaking for the first time.

"In regard to Harry, all we can do is wait," he concluded sadly. "But there are many other things we need to attend to in his absence," he finished flicking his wand towards the door so the gathered teenagers outside could no longer listen.

(Break)

Two floors up from the kitchen five teenagers were gathered on the landing, strings hanging from their ears and looks of shock and worry plastered on their faces. The first to speak was the youngest of the group, Ginny.

"Do you think he's really okay?" she asked nervously.

It was Hermione who answered although she herself was not entirely convinced after hearing Dumbledore's explanation.

"I'm sure Harry is fine," she said reservedly. "If Dumbledore says he's fine then he must be."

"Then where the hell can he be?" Ron cut in sounding frustrated.

"I don't know, Ron," Hermione answered exasperatedly. She took a breath to calm herself before continuing. "If I know Harry and if he's in danger, he will find a way out."

"But he doesn't have his wand," George pointed out.

"He killed a basilisk with only a sword," Ginny interjected.

"Yeah because Harry just happens to carry a sword with him at all times," Ron snarked sarcastically, shaking his head.

They all stood in silence for some time lost in their own thoughts until Hermione spoke once again.

"His relatives must be really worried about him," she said worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

The twins and Ron shared uneasy looks but decided to say nothing. The look went unnoticed by Hermione but Ginny picked up on the awkwardness immediately.

"What?" she asked. "What is it?"

The boys exchanged a look again before one of the twins nodded and looked at the girls through a curious frown.

"What do you know about Harry?" he asked.

"He's brave and he's strong and quiet," Ginny answered. "He's the strong silent type," she finished with a dreamy expression.

"That's the crap you read in all your stupid books," Ron said disgustedly.

"What do you know about him Hermione?" Fred asked.

Hermione frowned and thought deeply before answering. She worried her lip again before looking very confident.

"He's a shy and introverted person who lacks confidence and doesn't work to his full potential. He's very powerful when he wants to be but he seems reluctant to stand out," she said nodding at her own conclusion of her best friend.

"True," was the simple reply she received. "What do you know about his life away from Hogwarts?"

Hermione hesitated. "Erm, well not much really, he doesn't ever talk about it, but I do know his relatives aren't very nice people."

The three boys again shared a look before Ron nodded to his older brothers. They seemed to have a silent debate between them before one of them nodded reluctantly.

"When we rescued Harry the summer before second year, we found him in his room half-starved and there were bars on the window. He was locked in," he explained irritably. "His relatives hate him and treat him worse than a house-elf, that's why he has no confidence."

He shared a look with his brother before continuing.

"When we got his trunk from the cupboard under the stairs, we found a bed in there and some drawings on the wall that Harry had done, he must have slept in there for most of his childhood."

Hermione looked a mixture between horrified and furious.

"Why didn't he tell us?" she asked no one in particular. "Surely if he would have told Dumbledore he would have done something," she said with conviction.

"Well, we did speak to mum and convince her to write to Dumbledore," one of the twins replied rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "All he did was thank her for raising her concerns and that's it," he finished looking perplexed.

"Do they really treat him that badly?" Ginny asked disbelievingly.

"Listen, Gin," one of the twins started, putting his arm around her shoulders. "The Harry you read about in your stories as a girl is not real. He didn't grow up in a castle and he's nothing like how he is portrayed in them. The Harry you think you love does not exist. Harry hates being famous and hates attention, that's just in his nature but he has his issues and they are down to the muggles who raised him."

"But he's really powerful and brave," she said almost desperately.

"Yes, he is" Hermione agreed. "But he doesn't do the things he does for fame or attention, he does it because it's the right thing to do."

"And what is it he has done?" the twins asked in unison. "We've heard rumours but you know what rumours at school are like," one of them said knowingly.

The three younger teens shared sheepish looks before nodding in agreement and turned to look at the twins who were waiting patiently.

"What we tell you can go no further," Hermione said in a no-nonsense tone.

"We swear that…"

"We won't say a word," the twins chorused.

Between the three of them, Hermione, Ron and Ginny explained what they knew of Harry's first three years at Hogwarts. The twins remained silent, taking in every detail and listened in awe at what they were hearing. By the end, they were dumbfounded and simply stood mouths agape. Even Ron and Ginny were amazed at Hermione's description of Harry's patronus the night they saved Sirius.

"He's really that powerful?" Ron asked shaking his head.

"I've never seen anything like it, it was amazing," Hermione answered quietly.

"But that's not supposed to be possible," one of the twins said disbelievingly. "One hundred Dementors, even the most powerful wizards struggle with a few at the most, Dumbledore is probably the only possible exception," he said mirroring his brothers head shake.

"I saw him do it," Hermione responded. "Have you ever seen him angry?" she asked the collective group.

"Yeah," Ron replied. "When he realised it was Sirius who had taken me in the shack. He was furious and he was terrifying. It felt like I couldn't move," he finished looking thoughtful.

"That's exactly how I felt," Hermione said. "Even Sirius froze for a while. It takes a lot to make him angry but when he gets there, it really is terrifying."

"I don't believe it," one of the twins denied. "Our little Harrikins is the nicest bloke going."

"Yeah," the other interjected. "He's not got a horrible bone in his body."

The group went silent again for some time before one of the twins spoke up. He looked at his sister questioningly before speaking.

"Are you sure the basilisk was as big as you said?" he asked sceptically. "You were in shock you know and it might have seemed bigger than it was."

His sister huffed angrily and took a moment to compose herself before she answered her brother.

"I know what I saw," she said angrily. "It was massive and nearly killed Harry. It bit him when he stabbed it with the sword," she said adamantly.

"But Harry would be dead," Fred pointed out. "No one can survive being bitten by a basilisk"

"Dumbledore's phoenix healed him," she replied through gritted teeth. "He has the scar on his arm," she finished, glaring at her brother.

"Okay, okay," George broke in raising his arms in a gesture of peace. "It seems our little Harry is quite lucky at getting out of trouble," he said, impressed by the younger boy.

"But luck runs out eventually," Fred muttered.

"Then let's hope his luck holds for a little longer," George sighed before they left the landing and headed towards their bedroom.

Ron looked at Hermione for some reassurance. She shrugged her shoulders before taking Ginny by the arm and leading her away. He stood alone on the landing for some time thinking of his wayward friend.

"Where the hell are you Harry?" he mumbled to himself before he too made his way to bed.

(Break)

Harry awoke to find himself in a peculiar predicament. His nostrils were filled with the scent of both old and new parchment mixed with a distant smell of frying food. It took him several moments to remember where he was and what had happened in the last 24 hours. When he did, he felt both nervous and relieved once again knowing he was safe, for now.

He roused himself and removed the offending weight from his face before stretching and opening his eyes. He instinctively reached towards the bedside table for his glasses but could not feel them. He double-checked his face only to find they weren't there and began to feel a slight pang of panic.

It took a few seconds to realise that he could see perfectly without them and he relaxed slightly. Was he wearing them yesterday? Having been used to only seeing with them on he didn't check.

He shook his head, stretched and began to reflect further on the day before. He wasn't long into his musings when the door opened and Arcturus entered carrying a plate of food and a pile of clothes.

"Ahh, awake are we Potter?" he asked, not really expecting an answer. "I see you've been reading," he acknowledged, gesturing to the book.

Harry had indeed read a considerable amount of the book in his sleepless state. He found what he read quite disturbing and was very reluctant to even think of casting the spells he had seen within the tome. His mind had wandered back to the memories that he had seen and reluctance slowly turned into a determination to learn everything he could from the book. He remembered the horrors of the war and battles he had seen and knew that if he wanted any fighting chance at surviving, he would have to learn all he could. Backed by his desire to avenge his family and to see to the end of Voldemort personally, his resolve became unwavering and he wanted to learn the same magic he had seen his Grandfather use.

Yes, Harry had witnessed battle, he had seen his grandfather face down any man who would attack the people who couldn't fight, those who would attack him and the ones he cared about. He found a deep respect for someone of his own blood and wanted nothing more than to live up to the man. He wanted to make him proud and follow his morals. He would do as the man himself told him; _"You do what you must to survive."_

He looked towards the older man who had fought side by side with his Grandfather with the determination he felt reflected in his eyes.

"Yes, sir" he answered simply, knowing that was all he needed to say.

Arcturus observed the young man in front him for a moment before nodding in reply and handing him the plate of food.

"You have a few decisions to make today, Potter," he said in a business-like tone. "Eat first, the bathroom is opposite this one then come down to the drawing room at the end of the corridor," he instructed, placing the clothes on the chair next to the bed before he left the room.

Harry found that he was very hungry, after all he hadn't eaten for almost four days.

He ate his breakfast with gusto, picked up the pile of clothes from the chair and made his way to the bathroom. The room itself was simple. It was slate tiled with a glossy black sink, toilet and shower enclosure to match. Despite the dark décor it was brightly lit and he found the atmosphere relaxing. He turned on the shower and stripped-down waiting for the water to heat up.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror and was surprised at his appearance. He no longer looked emaciated. He was still on the thin side but he looked considerably healthier than he remembered. He noticed too that his scar had faded considerably and traced it with his finger.

He touched his face and found he had rather high cheekbones, something that had been hidden by his glasses all these years. He didn't look so much the little boy he remembered. He was truly growing and maturing physically. He couldn't recall the last time he had paid any attention to his reflection; he had never been vain so he never noticed any kind of changes but now really looking at himself, he could see that he wasn't a child anymore.

It seemed that his reflection was living up to the strides his emotional maturity had made over the years. He drew his attention away and stepped into the shower to cleanse himself.

He exited the shower when he was finished and got dressed quickly before making his way to the indicated drawing room. He paused at the door and took a breath before knocking.

"Come in," the voice of Arcturus instructed.

Harry entered the room and was taken aback by what he found inside.

The drawing room was more of a library. Stacks upon stacks of books lined the walls placed upon thick, oak shelves. The carpet was a deep green and the furniture matched the shelves perfectly. Arcturus was sat behind a desk at the end of the room waiting for Harry to take the seat on the opposite side.

"These are all the books I took from the Black library when that sow Walburga finally croaked," he said seeing Harry staring in awe at the sheer number of books in the room. "As long as you are here you can read whatever you like," he offered.

"Thank you, sir," Harry replied gratefully. "How long will I be here Mr Black?" he asked nervously.

"That is what we need to discuss," the older man answered seriously. "Now you are not a prisoner here Potter, you can leave whenever you like," he explained, appeasing the boy.

"Thank you, sir," Harry said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"That being said," Arcturus continued. "I think it is best that you remain here for the foreseeable future. Riddle thinks you're dead and that itself gives us time for you to prepare. I have already sent a message to Dumbledore so he knows that you are safe so you need not worry about that," he added upon seeing a little bit of panic in Harry's eyes. "I can send Elgar to fetch any of your belongings you will want and then you can make sure you're ready to make an appearance when the time is right."

Harry was torn. It was not that he disliked the man but he wanted to see his friends and Sirius to let them all know he was ok. But the more he thought about it, the more he knew it made sense to stay where he was. The less people that knew he was alive the better.

"Yes, sir" he answered. "I think you're right. I'm not ready to face him yet and I need to be," he admitted, slightly ashamed.

"Good," was the reply he received. "Elgar," he called out for the house-elf.

"Yes, Lord Black," the elf replied upon entering the room.

"Can you locate Mr Potter's property? It may be at Hogwarts or at his home."

The elf looked a little nervous before he replied.

"Elgar can be checking Hogwarts, Lord Black, but Elgar cannot be going to Mr Potter's home," the elf said apologetically.

"Hmm, must be the wards," Arcturus mused. aloud "Do you have an elf Potter?" he asked.

"I don't own an elf, sir but, there may be one that can help," he replied.

"Call it," Arcturus answered.

"Dobby?" Harry called uncertainly.

There was a pop and Harry immediately found himself wrapped tightly in a hug by a hysterical elf.

"Master Harry Potter, sir, Dobby has been worried about you sir, but sir is ok," the elf wailed.

Harry just sat in shock at the elf's antics unsure on what he should do. That was until he saw Arcturus standing across the desk, furious, his wand in hand.

"What the hell is the Malfoy elf doing here?" he asked angrily.

"He's not a Malfoy elf anymore," Harry explained, shielding the Dobby. "I set him free at the end of my second year."

The look of fury turned to one of confusion and then to one of amusement as the older man barked out a short laugh.

"Set him free, did you?" he asked. "You'll have to share that story," he said before turning his attention back to the shaking elf. "Who do you serve, elf?" Arcturus asked bluntly.

Dobby looked sheepish and turned a deeper shade of green before he answered the question. He stood straighter and looked the older man in the face defiantly.

"Dobby serves the great Harry Potter sir," the elf answered in perfect English. He turned to look at Harry looking slightly worried. "When Harry Potter sir freed Dobby he had to find a new master quickly as Dobby was weak and he would die. Dobby bonded to the great Harry Potter sir knowing that Harry Potter sirs magics were strong and Dobby wouldn't have to serve him to stay alive."

"It's ok Dobby" Harry consoled the trembling elf. "All you had to do was ask and I would have agreed if it would save your life".

Arcturus shook his head at the pair.

"Just like Charlus," he said. "Making friends with creatures. It drove Dorea crazy when he would come home with another animal to look after," he added looking thoughtful. "Elf?" he said slipping out of his thoughts. "Can you get Mr Potter's things from wherever they are?" he asked, back to his usual tone.

"Yes, Baron Black sir, Dobby will be getting it right away," the elf replied before popping out of the room.

Arcturus shook his head at the elf's personality and turned his attention to the boy who was still looking quite dumbfounded. He coughed to get his attention.

"Well if you're staying here there are things we need to get," he said. "We will take a trip to Gringotts, in disguise of course, and go to your vaults. I'm sure there will be some stuff for you there. You need a couple of wands and probably clothes I imagine," he finished, scratching his chin.

Harry was relieved at the thought of getting a wand but frowned when he realised Arcturus mentioned getting more than one. He looked at the man questioningly.

"You should always have a second wand," he said sternly. "It's not strictly legal, but you need to be prepared for all eventualities."

"I'm sorry, but did you say vaults?" Harry asked.

Arcturus looked confused for a moment before he snapped out of it and stared at the boy.

"When did you last go to the bank?" he asked.

"Not since before my second year second year," he answered confusedly.

"Ahh, so you wouldn't be aware of your family vault yet. All families have a family vault Potter and as the last of your line you can access it," Arcturus explained.

Harry was shocked and excited at the prospect of what he would find in there. More than anything he was hoping for more pictures of his family and sentimental things to remind him of them. Before he could ponder this further, Dobby popped back into the room with his trunk in tow.

"Professor whiskers be sending master Harry Potter sirs things back to the fat ones," he said. "The fattest one was not happy to see Dobby," he added, looking guilty.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Harry asked worriedly.

"No, sir," Dobby answered. "Dobby may have cursed him a little though and Dobby is not sorry," the elf said with some force. "Dobby be punishing himself if Master Harry Potter sir wishes," he said hanging his head.

"No," Harry returned firmly.

"Why would the elf curse your family?" Arcturus questioned.

Harry turned red with embarrassment before he steeled himself to answer.

"Well they're not very nice people," he said lamely pushing his hands through his hair.

Arcturus scowled at what he said and read between the lines. He felt anger rise within him but calmed himself quite well before he spoke.

"Did they hurt you?" he asked quietly and Harry could sense the danger in his voice. He really did not want this conversation to happen but knew he had no choice.

"Only sometimes," he replied barely above a whisper. "But its ok," he added quickly. " I won't have to go back there until next year," he placated.

Arcturus growled and his nostrils flared at seeing the reaction of the boy to the subject of his relatives.

"You won't ever have to go back there," he said resolutely. "This is my idiot grandson's fault," he growled. "Oh, I will be having words with him soon enough," he said to himself. "And we" he continued indicating between himself and Harry, "will be having a conversation later."

Harry gulped but nodded knowing that Arcturus was very serious and there would be no compromise.

"Now," the older man began again after he had calmed down. "It's time for us to take a trip, but first, we need to hide who you are," he said beckoning Harry forward. He removed his wand and pointed it at Harry's face, who couldn't help but flinch, and waved it a few times before turning his wand on himself and repeating the process. "No one will recognise us like this," he said, summoning a mirror.

Harry now had light brown hair and brown eyes. His cheekbones had lowered and he was slightly fuller in figure. Arcturus looked like him only much older with blue eyes. They looked as though they were grandfather and grandson and Harry had to agree; no one would recognise either of them for who they really were. Before he could comprehend what had happened, Arcturus had grabbed his arm and had apparated them out of the house.

They appeared in an alley just outside the large, white marble building that was the bank. It took a moment for Harry to gather himself from the unexpected apparition, but his disorientation passed quickly.

"When we go in let me do the talking," Arcturus said seriously before taking Harry by the arm and leading the way past the two heavily armoured goblin guards and into the bank. It looked just as Harry remembered. There were two very long rows of desks on either side of the bank and one large at the end placed in the centre of the gangway. They approached the desk completely unnoticed and Arcturus spoke to the goblin who was quite displeased at being interrupted.

"I wish to see Barchoke, the goblin in charge of the Black accounts," he said in a low voice, flashing a ring on his right hand in to view.

The goblin was surprised but covered it quickly. He looked intently at Arcturus and then at Harry, his bushy eyebrows raising significantly at the unlikely duo.

"It has been some time Baron Black," the goblin replied in an equally low voice. "Don't worry," he added seeing the concerned look on Harry's face, "We pride ourselves on our discretion, as Baron Black can attest to."

The diminutive creature left his desk to fetch the required goblin leaving Harry and Arcturus alone for a moment. It wasn't long before he returned with another, confused goblin in tow. When he saw Arcturus, an evil smirk appeared on his face but it did not look sinister, in fact, he appeared to be very gleeful.

"Ahh, Baron Black," the goblin greeted. "It has been 5 years since you last graced me with your presence and that only happened because the matter was both urgent and delicate. I assume this is the same," he inferred, his gaze switching to Harry briefly.

"It is indeed," Arcturus confirmed. "However, I must insist on the same level of discretion as previously. I'm sure you are aware of my companions' current status," he said giving the goblin a sharp look.

The goblin bowed his head in understanding before answering. "I am indeed, Baron Black. Perhaps we should discuss things in a more private setting?" he offered seeing a few other goblins taking notice of them.

"That would be appreciated," Arcturus said gratefully.

The goblin beckoned them forwards and the y followed him through a set of doors to the left-hand side at the end of the corridor. They walked through what appeared to be a labyrinth of hallways before reaching a large brown door in which the entered. The room was seemingly a conference area of some descript. It was simply decorated with a large table in the centre adorned with 12 matching chairs. There was a fireplace but the walls were bare and painted a neutral magnolia.

Harry and Arcturus took seats opposite Barchoke to begin their business.

"What is it I can do for you Baron Black?" the goblin asked sounding slightly suspicious.

"As you can see, I brought company today," Arcturus began. "He would like to access his family vault to receive some gold and any items of his choosing."

The goblin looked relieved at the simplicity of the business with the older man. He was curious about his accompanying the Potter boy, however. "May I ask as to why you are bringing Mr Potter?" he asked quizzically. "Does it concern your previous visit?"

Arcturus nodded in response but did not address the second question vocally. "A certain Dark Lord as resurfaced," he stated darkly. "Mr Potter here has already had a run in with him and he needs to be prepared," he added giving Barchoke a knowing look.

The goblin breathed out a sharp burst of breath before addressing Arcturus once more.

"We appreciate the warning," he spoke sincerely. "And of course, as Mr Potter is one of our more significant customers, it is in our best interest to keep your visit as quiet as possible. However, as far as Gringotts is concerned, due to the nature of a certain tournament this past year and the fact that Mr Potter is the last of his line, he is considered an adult wizard as of now," the goblin finished clicking his fingers.

"I was hoping you would see it that way," Arcturus replied, offering the goblin a bow of his head. "I would like to request a health check on Mr Potter also. He had quite the traumatic experience recently and as you can imagine, St Mungo's would not be ideal currently," he explained gesturing towards the young man.

"Of course, though our healing skills are rather different," the goblin warned.

Arcturus simply nodded.

The goblin stood and made his way towards Harry and looked him in the eyes. He took hold of his hands and closed his own, a look of deep concentration coming over him. He then placed his hands on his head his thumbs pushing gently into Harry's temples. Harry felt a warm tingle spread throughout him that finished as quickly as it begun. Barchoke then made his way back to his seat and looked curiously at Harry.

"Your magic has undergone significant changes recently," he stated simply. "Your body also seems to be in the process of changing physically and will continue to do so in the coming weeks, it's as though it has been stunted and held back by a few factors and is now catching up on itself," he finished turning to look at Arcturus. "Him?" he questioned.

"I believe so," Arcturus replied. "He was hit by the killing curse again. Is it all gone?" he questioned the goblin.

The goblin nodded. "There are no signs of any other magic influencing Mr Potter in any capacity," he answered. "There are however a couple of curious things I came across and he will need to be fitted for a new wand. His magic is different, his old one may not be a fit any longer."

"What curious things?" Arcturus asked, frowning.

"It appears that Mr Potter has traces of both basilisk venom and phoenix tears in his blood," the goblin explained. "It is curious how they got there and how the venom did not kill him," he finished looking intently at Harry, as Arcturus was also.

Harry looked nervous and didn't know how to answer but knew that honesty went a long way with the older Black.

"I fought and killed a basilisk in my second year. Someone opened the chamber of secrets and it was petrifying students. It petrified my friend and my other friends' sister was taken into the chamber so I went to get her out," he said looking at the floor. "I got bit by the snake as I stabbed it and Fawkes, that's Dumbledore's phoenix, cried into the wound."

Arcturus shook his head. "It seems we have much more to discuss, Mr Potter," he said. "How did you find the chamber."

"We spoke to moaning Myrtle in the second-floor bathroom. She was killed by the basilisk the last time it was opened in there so we figured the entrance was there. It was using the plumbing to get around the school," he said.

"Hmm," Arcturus mused. "And how did a 12-year-old enter the chamber when many more experienced wizards have failed to even find the entrance?" he asked even more curiously.

"You have to be a parselmouth to open it," Harry replied quietly.

Arcturus coughed in surprise but schooled his features again quickly. "So, you're a parselmouth?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry answered shamefully. "Dumbledore says that I got the ability from Voldemort when he hit me with the curse the first time and it backfired."

"There have been parselmouth's in the Black line, but not for several hundred years," Arcturus explained. "We are related to the Slytherins by blood but very distantly now. We married into a lower branch of the family centuries ago so it may be a blood trait. Your magic has changed and I am guessing if that ability came from Riddle, then it will no longer be there," he said looking questioningly at the goblin who had been very quiet for the past few minutes.

He shook himself from his stupor before answering.

"I believe that would be the case. Any traits both positive and negative would have been removed along with the… essence left behind," he sighed, noticing a look he was given by Arcturus. "There is only one way to find out," he stated summoning a small adder. "Speak" he instructed Harry.

Harry looked at the snake and gulped before clearing his throat to speak. _"Hello there, friend"_ he hissed.

_" A ssspeaker"_ the snake replied. _"You have the ssscent of the great one about you. How may I ssserve?"_ the snake finished questioning Harry.

_"I jussst needed to know if I could ssstill ssspeak to snakesss,"_ he began. _"My magic hasss changed and I wasn't sssure if I could anymore,"_ he finished.

The snake shook its head, stragely appearing to be amused. _"Silly human thiss iss a part of your magic only thossse from the sssnake line can ssspeak it but even in the line it is rare now, too much mating with your own kind hasss soiled the magic,"_ it finished eliciting some laughter from Harry.

"What did it say" asked the goblin.

"It said it is my own magic but…" he stammered.

"But?" asked Arcturus impatiently.

Harry steeled himself before replying.

"He said that it is very rare now even in the Black bloodline because of continuous inbreeding, it has corrupted the magic," he muttered, stifling his laughter.

Arcturus looked murderously towards the snake before vanishing it with a simple wave of his wand.

"Well that explains it," he said. "It's your own magic. I'm guessing your father marrying your mother removed any impurities from both bloodlines and has awoken the dormant magic. It will be a significant advantage for you when in battle, just not against Riddle. I will get the parselmagic books from the Black vault while we are here."

"What became of the basilisk Mr Potter?" the goblin asked inquisitively.

"It's still in the chamber," Harry answered. "Only myself or Voldemort can get in there."

"How big was it twenty-feet? thirty-feet?" Barchoke questioned.

Harry though for a moment before answering. "I would say it was closer to 70 feet," he answered uncertainly.

Both Arcturus and the goblin shared a similar look before the older man addressed Harry.

"Are you sure about that, Potter?" he asked sceptically.

"I can't be sure," Harry replied. "If you have a pensieve, you can see for yourself," he offered.

The goblin shrugged at the older man who placed his wand at Harry's temple.

"Think of being in the chamber and fighting the basilisk," he requested.

Harry did as he was told and felt the memory being pulled from the side of his head. He watched as the goblin summoned a pensieve and the two disappeared into it after Arcturus added the memory to the basin. They both emerged several minutes later wearing similar expressions of shock. Arcturus looked at Harry with something he could only describe as pride.

"Just like your grandfather," he said proudly. "There was some luck there, Potter, but you definitely have skill," he added, looking at Harry more intently.

"Yes, Mr Potter that was very impressive," the goblin chimed in. "I would like to negotiate a price for the carcass of the basilisk. As you killed it, it is rightfully yours," he explained.

"I have no idea how valuable that would be," Harry admitted.

"The last whole basilisk sold for around four-hundred-thousand galleons but that was some centuries ago," the goblin said frowning. "The parts from that snake are still in circulation and I imagine a fresher specimen would garner much interest, especially one of this size. I can confidently offer you one million galleons for it, it is a very fair price and that added to the current value of your vaults would make you a very wealthy wizard, Mr Potter. You will be able to live a very comfortable life as will many more Potter generations without having to ever be employed."

Harry looked towards Arcturus who simply shrugged his shoulders at the boy.

"That seems fair," Harry answered. "I don't know what I would do with a big snake corpse anyway."

"Excellent," the goblin replied clapping his hands together. "We can arrange a visit to collect the beast."

"Can we go down to our vaults now?" Arcturus asked. "We are somewhat pressed for time" he pointed out.

"Of course," the goblin replied. "I will take you down personally."

The trip down to the vaults was exactly as Harry remembered. The cart on the single winding track was as exhilarating as his first journey. The only difference was the depth in which they travelled. Harry realised they must have made their way to the lowest point in the bowels of the underground cavern. It must have been miles below the surface. They came to a stop outside a vault that was simply eerie. The air was cold and the stone roughly carved. The door was a thick construct of oak decorated with an intricate obsidian pattern around the bronze hinges and fixtures. In the centre of the door was a crest which Harry assumed belonged to the Black family. It was faded considerably to the point of that the details could not be seen very well, demonstrating its age. Below the crest were to words; Toujours Pur.

"Vault number thirteen," Barchoke announced at their arrival.

"Come, Potter" Arcturus said. "It is safe to enter as you are with me."

As they approached the door the older man gently stroked his family crest lovingly but with a mournful look on his face. He swallowed hard and composed himself as he removed his wand from his sleeve and placed it against the crest. The door glowed a gentle orange and then blue before a series of locks could be heard unfastening.

It opened slowly revealing a room that seemed endless in size. Harry was taken aback by the amount of wealth on display but couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding within.

"Do not touch anything," Arcturus instructed. "There are things in here that will take your life before you can blink and they are the more pleasant items."

Harry stood still not wanting to come within a foot of anything in the room. Arcturus made his way to a large bookshelf that was halfway down the left side wall and began to peruse the shelf. Around five minutes later, he returned levitating three books that were bound in aged leather.

"Here," he offered, directing the books towards Harry. "These are the parselmagic books that belong to the Blacks. I have no idea what is in them because if you do not possess the gift, you can't touch them. Do not let anyone touch them under any circumstances; the curses on them are very dark and will kill someone very painfully," he advised sternly.

Harry hesitated before taking the books, not wanting to be cursed horrifically. He finally plucked the books out of the air and breathed a sigh of relief when nothing untoward happened.

"Thank you, sir," he said gratefully to the older man.

Arcturus nodded. "Do not share that knowledge with anyone. Those spells have not been seen or used in centuries so it is one of your advantages and may or may not be useful against Riddle. I am not sure of his own knowledge of parselmagic."

"I won't share any of it," Harry promised.

He looked down at the books to determine what they contained and how useful they would be. The first book was titled; _Spells of The Serpent_ and was more of a notebook containing several spells that would come in useful in battle and day to day life.

The second book was called; _The Serpents Gift_ and was a book on more spells and parseltongue wards that Harry knew would be a boon and the final book was the oldest, was the smallest and was again handwritten, but the name of the author could not be made out. The book was titled; _Speaking the Tongue_, was little more than a manual on how to control the parseltongue ability and speak it at will without the presence of a snake or another speaker.

Harry knew this would be very useful having never being able to speak the language at will.

They left the vault again and after another much shorter journey, found themselves outside a vault with a door that appeared to be made from redwood. In the centre was another crest that was much more prominent than that of the Blacks. The crest was of a dragon and a griffin back to back, each clutching a sword in one claw and a wand in the other. The background was a deep blue and the animals each a mixture of gold and silver lined in black.

Harry stood in awe at the crest and a warmth spread throughout him at the connection to his family he now felt. He raised his right hand and brushed his fingertips against the crest. As he did so, he felt a gentle pull on his magic and the door vanished leaving him shocked.

He turned to look at Arcturus with that expression etched on his face.

"You need to be a Potter to open the vault," he explained. "If anyone else tried that I'm sure it would be a very unpleasant experience," he added looking at the goblin who nodded gravely.

Harry turned and entered his family vault for the first time. There were what could be described as mountains of gold Galleons taking up around ¾ of the massive room that was around the size of the Blacks, but his attention was not on the gold.

He only had eyes for the other part of the vault that he could see contained piles of neatly stacked trunks and portraits. Without even thinking, he made his way over to that corner and began to look through the items left behind by various family members.

Arcturus watched the teen closely and could only see the boy that more than anything in the world wanted a family. Any other child would have been filling their pockets with as much gold as they could carry, but not the Potter boy.

He could see the kind of man he was becoming. He cared not for material wealth but the wealth of sentimentality. He nodded unseen in approval at the young man who was turning out to be more than he expected. He was not a typical child. He was a boy that had seen hardship and endured quite a terrible life and all he craved was a family, a family that had been taken away from him.

It had been years since Arcturus had felt any kind of real sadness but witnessing first-hand the desire the boy had to have a family gave him a twinge of it; a feeling he was not fond of.

He made his way over to the corner to find Harry looking at a picture that he recognised.

"That's your grandmother and grandfather, not long after their wedding," he spoke softly making Harry jump at his interruption.

Harry just nodded not trusting himself to speak. The occupants in the picture were both smiling at him looking truly happy. It warmed his heart knowing that there were times that his family were happy and not everything had always been such a disaster for them as he had only ever experienced.

He was disturbed from his thoughts by Arcturus handing him another picture he had pulled from the pile.

He looked at the picture he was handed and could no longer hold back the emotions he had, a single tear escaping him and running slowly down his cheek. It was a picture of his parents and grandparents. In his grandmothers arms he could see a little bundle swathed in a white blanket that could only be him.

His grandfather was stood next to her with his arm wrapped around her shoulder proudly. All the occupants were beaming at the new addition to the family and the emotion Harry was feeling overwhelmed him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Arcturus looking at him in understanding.

"Use it," he urged. "Use what you're feeling to honour your family, use it to avenge the crimes committed against them all."

Harry could only nod weakly in response but judging by the older man's reaction, it wasn't enough. Arcturus turned him sharply and grabbed him by both shoulders and looked him piercingly in the eye.

"What is worth fighting for?" he demanded. "Is it for the wizarding world? Is it for your friends? Or is it for yourself?"

Harry thought about what he was being asked and was surprised at what he concluded.

The wizarding world had always been fickle to him, a hero one moment and then a villain the next. They were sheep and would turn on you in an instant if things went badly and it was deemed your fault. No, he would not fight for them.

His friends had proven to be fickle at times also, despite knowing him, especially this past year. Ron had outright called him a liar and accused him of cheating and although Hermione didn't say anything, he could always see she had doubted him.

He frowned at those thoughts.

The entire school had turned against him and even the staff struggled to believe he did not enter the tournament willingly. As much as he wished he could fight for his friends he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He thought about his own reasons.

He had always been selfless and seldom did anything for himself. It always seemed what he did would benefit everyone else. He scowled at that thought but couldn't stop it playing repeatedly in his mind. What could he get for himself if he fought for his own reasons? Freedom, some normality, no more Voldemort, peace and revenge for his family that had been torn apart by Riddle and his regime? The thought of what Riddle had done to his family angered him and he trembled in rage and gritted his teeth.

"I'd fight for myself and my family," he said almost ashamedly.

"You should not be ashamed of your reasons, they are your reasons and that is all that matters," the older man said firmly. "Your grandfather would have answered the same had he been in your position right now knowing what had been done to those he loved. You fight for what feels right to you and you fight with everything you have; do you hear me? Remember what your grandfather said to you and remember what you saw in those memories and you're already halfway there."

Harry nodded more resolutely before turning his attention back to the photos.

"We don't have much time today, Potter," Arcturus said. "Get that green trunk there" he said pointing to a trunk near the top of the stack. "That's your grandfather's he used during the war it will have everything you need for the time being. Get some gold and find your family ring it should be by the book over there," he explained, indicating a pedestal in the centre of the room.

Harry complied and pulled down the trunk and pocketed the photos.

He made his way to the centre of the room where the pedestal was and found a box next to a large tome. The book itself was an index of all the books that the family owned. He opened the box that contained the family ring and then pocketed it.

"Grab the book also, it will help with any studying. You still have exams to do," Arcturus said. "The book will become any book you own in the Potter library so it is very useful to have with you" he finished making his way to the door to wait for the boy.

Harry picked up the book also and filled a nearby pouch with as much gold as it could carry. He then picked up a stack of muggle notes he spotted among the gold, just in case he needed it. He made his way to the door still feeling overwhelmed and was reluctant to leave.

Arcturus, who shook his head at the boy, noticed this.

"You can come back any time you like, Potter but we have things to do now," he reminded the teen as he entered the cart followed slowly by Harry.

The journey to the surface felt much quicker than their descent and before he knew it, Harry found himself back in the alley that had apparated into when they arrived.

"We need to get you your wands," Arcturus said.

Instead of heading to Olivander's, which was further up the alley, Arcturus took Harry's arm and led him to Knockturn Alley. When Harry realised where they were heading, he hesitated but was pulled forward by the man.

"Do not believe everything you hear," he said shaking his head. "If everything here was illegal and dark do you think it would be allowed to remain functional?"

Harry remained silent but allowed himself to be half-dragged down the alley.

Arcturus eventually came to a stop outside a building that had clearly seen better days. It was constructed of very old stone and the wood had clearly once been dark but was now a faded grey colour. The sign above the shop was a blank oaken shield and the paint had faded so badly it could no longer be read. Harry was quickly being dragged once again and found himself inside the shop. The first thing he noticed was the very pungent smell of burnt wood and what smelled like animal parts he had used in potions.

"Who's there?" an aged, scratchy voice asked from somewhere behind the counter.

"I'll give you one guess, you decrepit old bastard," Arcturus replied. "Get out here now."

There was a loud thump from somewhere as though something heavy had been dropped. A fast shuffling of feet followed this.

Harry was surprised to see a man much older than Arcturus and more so that he could move so quickly. He was very old indeed. He had almost no hair save a few random pure white wisps and his eyes were almost completely white with only a hint of brown left in them. He was heavily wrinkled and dressed as though he was in the 1800's.

"Do my eyes deceive me?" the man asked looking at the disguised Arcturus. "Baron Black?"

"Your eyes have been deceiving you for decades you useless swine. I'm not here for a reunion I'm here to get some wands made," he told the man harshly.

"Surely your wands are fine," the man stated ignoring his brash remarks.

"They're not for me you damned cretin, they're for my young companion here," Arcturus explained gesturing to Harry. "And of course, you will give an oath of secrecy, we were never here. Do you understand?" he asked dangerously.

The man gulped audibly but gave his oath before continuing.

"To business then," he declared, rubbing his hands together. "Come forward young man," he requested beckoning to Harry.

"Pass me your wand hand," the man instructed.

He waved his wand over it when presented and before Harry knew what was happening, he felt a sharp pain that quickly disappeared. The man was now clutching a vial of what appeared to be blood that was surrounded by a golden glow.

"This is a mixture of your blood and magic, it is unique to you. From this I can determine what components will be required for your wands and what will work best for you. I then use what's in this vial to key the wands to you and you only. That means only you can use them," he explained.

Harry just nodded at what the man said and waited for him to continue.

"From just looking at what is in the vial, I can see you have strong and powerful magic, a mixture from a few powerful bloodlines I imagine," he finished, mumbling to himself.

He turned and made his way behind the counter before pulling out a bowl from beneath that looked like a pensieve. He emptied the vial into it and began waving his wand over it and mumbling in a language Harry did not recognise. The bowl began to glow in steadily changing colours before stopping and becoming its original colour once again. He frowned at the results and then grinned in satisfaction at his conclusion.

"Well, Mr Potter," he said causing Harry to gasp in surprise, "You are a very interesting person."

Arcturus growled and glared at the man but he simply reminded him of the oath he had given.

"How do you know who I am?" Harry asked worriedly.

"I will explain when the wands are complete," the man answered. "But I am interested in hearing about your connection to some of these very unexpected ingredients," he added looking very curious.

"How long?" Arcturus cut in looking peeved at the man.

"They will be ready in a couple of hours," the man assured him.

Arcturus had already taken Harry by the arm and was already leading him outside. He dragged him a few shops further up the alley and Harry found himself being pulled inside one that sold clothing.

"How may I help you, dears?" a portly female voice asked as they entered.

"The boy needs everything," Arcturus explained.

The woman looked as though Christmas had come early and immediately set to work measuring Harry every way possible. By the time she had finished her measuring and asked Harry about styles and colours, he was exhausted and irritable.

Before the woman set to work Arcturus pulled her aside.

"I want the robes to have this on," he said handing her a picture of the Potter crest which the woman blanched at. "And your discretion would be much appreciated," he added threateningly.

"Of course, sir," she replied shakily. "I pride myself on confidentiality," she said hastily, retreating to the back room.

What seemed like forever had passed but soon enough Harry was handed a massive trunk with his newly completed wardrobe. He had; Robes of various colours and styles, t shirts, jeans, trousers, underwear, cloaks, coats jackets, various types of shoes, boots and trainers and lots of loose fitted clothing for exercise.

He quickly paid his bill, eager to leave the store, and they made their way back to the wandmaker's shop. They entered to be greeted by the man who was awaiting their arrival. He looked quite tired but equally excited.

"Well, Mr Potter, your wands are complete and I must say, it was quite the task," he informed the teen, strangely happy at the difficulty of the job.

He pulled out a heavy but small black box and opened it to reveal two very beautiful, identical wands. They were white interlaced with embedded, black crystal of some kind.

"What are they made of?" Arcturus asked the question that was on the tip of Harrys' tongue.

"Well," the old man replied, "you wanted to know how I knew who you were?" the old man asked. Receiving a nod from Harry he continued. "I knew you were a Potter from the primary cores," he began looking a little smug. "Dragon heartstring and Griffin claw. All Potter males have these cores it is a unique combination to the family. The heartstring comes from a female Horntail and the claw from a male Golden Griffin," he explained. "A very unique combination in itself but it is the rest of the wand that is curious," he added frowning.

"How so?" Harry asked, confused at the man's expression.

"The shaft of the wand is made from white ash," he explained, indicating the white wood. "The obsidian marbled into the wood would usually be used as a focus stone on the end but it wasn't possible for this wand. I had to merge the 2 components, which is impossible without magic, for the wand to work the way it should," he finished again shaking his head.

Arcturus frowned at the man again before questioning further.

"And why did you have to do that?" he asked impatiently.

"The final two components" he stated looking at Harry more curiously than before. "Phoenix tears and basilisk venom."

Harry did not react but Arcturus was now very annoyed with the man's curiosity and questions. What is your point?" he asked the wandmaker quietly with a warning tone.

"It doesn't take a genius to work out how Mr Potter ended up with these two contradictory components in his blood, but the fact they both survived in there is quite the feat. I am guessing it is due to his magic that they still reside there, it is the only way to explain it. Both surviving in your blood is a unique form of alchemy and it shouldn't simply happen," he pointed out shaking his head in disbelief. "However, getting them to exist in a wand was quite the conundrum. That is why the obsidian and white ash are as they appear. I had to encase the venom inside the obsidian and the phoenix tears into the ash, that way they are connected as they are both in contact with the obsidian that also acts as a barrier keeping them separated" he explained. "If they were to merge, they would simply counteract the effects of each other neutralising them and making them useless. That is why your wand is so unique, Mr Potter," he concluded tiredly.

Arcturus was impressed whereas Harry was quite shocked at the complexity of is wand. Before he could respond, the wandmaker interjected.

"It will take a powerful wizard to wield this wand," he said matter-of-factly. "There are a lot of very magical components and I doubt anyone but you could use it even if it wasn't keyed to you only," he hazarded looking at Harry. "But you should not worry". he added looking at the concerned expression the boy wore, "this wand is tailored to your requirements so you will have no problem using it, in fact it will help you perform at your absolute best."

"Will it make me more powerful?" Harry asked curiously.

The man chuckled at the question before he answered.

"It does not work like that, Mr Potter," he said shaking his head amusedly. "A wand is merely a way your magic is concentrated, that is all. The power comes from you. A wand does not give power but only control. Everything in your wand is what your magic needs to be used to the best of its potential. Anything you achieve, comes from you, Mr Potter. The wand is just a tool but it can be quite a special tool, as you can see," he concluded, presenting the box to him.

Harry reached out and took one of the wands in his right hand. He immediately felt his magic respond, tingling and warming him to the very tips of his toes and fingers. It felt like a glove that fit perfectly. It felt so very right. He smiled at the feeling and no longer felt the sense of vulnerability he had the past few days.

"May I ask?" the man began cautiously, "What happened to your other wand?"

Harry looked towards Arcturus who shrugged his shoulders and looked away, clearly not wanting to influence the answer nor having any objections to how he handled the query. Harry looked at the man and felt that he should tell him the truth; he had after all helped him immensely.

"It got destroyed in a duel with Voldemort," he answered.

To Harry's surprise, the man did not flinch nor seem perturbed by the revelation, but he scowled distastefully.

"Back then, is he?" he spat.

Harry nodded.

"Then you send him right where he belongs if you get the chance," the wandmaker demanded.

"How much do I owe you?" he asked the now silent man.

"That will be 500 Galleons, Mr Potter, expensive I know, but the ingredients and craftsmanship is quite spectacular," he boasted, smiling again.

Harry paid the man and bid him farewell. Arcturus led him back to the alleyway next to the bank in silence before he apparated them back to his home.

They arrived back in the drawing room and took the seats they had left hours before. They sat in a contemplative silence, lost in their own thoughts. Harry was overwhelmed by the events of the day; his family vault, the photos and his wands. He took one of the wands from the box and twirled it in his fingers. It truly was a thing of beauty. It was around the same length of his previous holly wand and weight not much more though it felt more rigid and sturdy.

"Aren't you going to test it?" Arcturus asked.

Harry looked at the older man questioningly before answering.

"I'm underage," he pointed out.

"Your wands don't have the trace on them," Arcturus explained. "You can do all the magic you like."

Harry had to admit that he was quite excited by the prospect of being able to perform magic whenever he wanted. He thought of his spell repertoire and was quite disappointed at his lack of general knowledge. He knew he had to be better. He swallowed and thought of how happy his family looked in the photo where he was in his grandmother's arms. He felt a warmth engulf him and he basked in it for a moment before intoning mournfully; _"Expecto Patronum."_

A bright white shape erupted from the tip of his wand, bright enough that the two in the room had to shield their eyes briefly. Arcturus looked on in both shock and appreciation at seeing such a young wizard performing a spell of such difficulty. The appreciation he felt came from the form the patronus had taken.

Harry himself was shocked also. He had become used to seeing a stag as his form but that was no longer the case. What stood in front of him now was a bigger animal, an animal he didn't recognise.

It was as large as a stallion, had large leathery wings and skin and a long thin tail that ended in a thicker triangular point. Its face was horse-like but much more skeletal and defined. He looked towards Arcturus and could see a somewhat sad expression on his face which he adjusted upon seeing the young man's gaze.

"A fully corporeal patronus?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, "But it's different," he whispered.

"Different how?" the older man questioned.

"It used to be a stag, my dad's animagus form," he answered with a hint of sorrow.

"Ahh and now you feel like you've lost a part of him," Arcturus deduced. "Well, the form it takes now still has a family connection."

At this Harry looked at the older man but couldn't bring himself to speak. His mouth was dry and a sense of sadness had filled him. He was fond of his patronus it had saved his and Sirius' life. It had always filled him with comfort.

"You have the same patronus as your grandmother," Arcturus informed him. "I suspect that the changes in your magic and your new knowledge of your family caused the change. I don't think there was anyone prouder the day you were born than Dorea. She cared for you very much in the short time she was around and from what I know, you were fond of her too. You never fussed when she was around and you quite liked being in her arms."

Harry felt a smile creep on to his face at what he heard and no longer felts so sad. He was grateful for another connection to his family. He nodded at the older man and took a second to compose himself.

"What is it?" he finally asked, pointing at the still present patronus.

"It's a Thestral," Arcturus answered simply. Seeing the confused look Harry had he elaborated. "They are said to be dark creatures because they can only be seen by those who have witnessed death. That's not true at all. Anyone who has studied them will tell you they are strong, loyal and very loving and caring creatures. They are fiercely protective of the younger members of the herd and can be very formidable if provoked."

Harry just nodded and didn't miss the fact that what he had heard seemed to describe what he knew of his grandmother. Instead of answering, he cancelled the spell and cast it again with the other wand getting the same result.

"Anyway," Arcturus interrupted his thoughts, "I'm sure you will find a lot of useful things in here," he said removing the green trunk from his pocket and resizing it. "Place your hand on the nameplate, it belongs to you now so you will be able to open it," he instructed.

Harry did as he was told and the lid of the trunk popped open to reveal its contents. Inside he found several wand holsters, books and personal items that belonged to his grandfather.

"The holsters will be very useful," Arcturus interjected. Harry picked up two matching dark green ones and placed his wands inside. "One on the wrist and one on the ankle, flick your wrist and the wand will appear in your hand and you can summon the one from your ankle wandlessly," he explained.

Harry attached the holsters as instructed and began to look at the books that were inside. He realised that most were simple journals that he could look at in his leisure, some containing more photos. One of the books he saw caught his attention; _Magical Health_ was the title. Inside were diet and exercise programs that would help develop the body to perform magic better and build fitness and stamina.

"You will want to really pay attention to that," Arcturus advised. "Charlus knew what he was doing and he was in very good condition. He never got exhausted in a fight."

Harry pocketed the book and closed the trunk. He would revisit it again later. He took a seat, lost in his thoughts, and removed the photos from his pocket and held them lovingly, as though they were the most precious thing in the world.

Arcturus allowed him his silence knowing that the day had been an emotional one for him. It was Harry that broke the silence, though he sounded a little timid and nervous.

"Sir," are there any portraits of my family like there are in Hogwarts, ones that I could talk to?" he asked hopefully.

Arcturus had wondered if the boy would ask this question and had to choose his words carefully in his reply as to not raise the teen's hopes too much.

"I know that Potter manor has several portraits like that, but I am unsure if Charlus or Dorea had them made for themselves. I would expect they did," he mused aloud. "However, I can't be completely sure," he added truthfully. "I very much doubt your parents would have though," he explained further causing Harry to look disheartened. "They were both very young and probably never considered it necessary."

"Can I go to Potter Manor?" Harry asked hopefully.

"You have to put the family ring on," Arcturus instructed. "You may be too young to gain access though. The manor was locked down many years ago and the wards may not recognise you as the head of the family until you come of age," he explained. "You are the head of the family but the house was sealed by your father, who may have placed a stasis spell to coincide with when you reach your majority."

Harry removed the ring from its box and placed it on his right hand. He felt his magic respond to it and felt a familiar warmth spread throughout him. There was nothing else and it felt very anti-climactic to him.

"Where is Potter Manor?" Arcturus questioned.

"I don't know," Harry answered disappointedly.

"Then you can't go there yet. The ring will give you the knowledge when you can. It has been a very long day Potter, we should eat and then turn in," he suggested. "Tomorrow it is time to start your preparations.


	4. Foundations

**Chapter 4: Foundations**

A month had passed since the events of the third task of the tournament and Sirius Black was still in a foul, irritable mood. The reason for his ongoing demeanour was of course his elusive godson and the lack of knowledge the man knew of his health and whereabouts. Despite being constantly reassured by Dumbledore that Harry was, fine he couldn't shift the uneasy feeling in his stomach. Adding to his already bad mood was his wanted status and the fact he had to remain in his childhood home that he loathed entirely. He was just as much a prisoner as he was in Azkaban and the dark nature of the house was barely an acceptable alternative to the Dementors.

The constant presence of Order members around him only irked him further. Remus was there by invitation and even though his mood was like his own, Sirius was content with the werewolf's company. They were after all brothers in all but blood, but the others had quickly begun to test his already frayed patience.

He didn't particularly dislike anyone but he felt as though he was under constant surveillance and could find no peace. The Weasley children were kept busy most of the time along with the Granger girl cleaning the house and trying to remove some of the darker aspects; a job that seemed endless and unrewarding.

It was Molly Weasley that bothered Sirius the most. He had nothing against her overtly but he found her overbearing and very trying on his nerves. He didn't understand why they were living there when the eldest son was a curse breaker and could erect suitable wards around their own home. Sirius suspected they were there at the request of Dumbledore to keep an eye on him. That was the only reason their occupancy of the house made sense.

The meetings of the order seemed pointless to him and the efforts the members were making were nothing short of fruitless. He knew they were trying their best, but most of them were just not up to scratch in comparison to the old crowd. He found the assigned guard shifts very strange especially as they had not been told what they were guarding. He himself was not allowed to take part. Had he been allowed to, he would have done all he could to discover what it was. He constantly asked Dumbledore what was so important that it required guarding but in his usual evasive way, he would simply make excuse after excuse not to tell anyone. He would become defensive and explain that it was not his place to tell, that it was Harry who would be made aware of it before anyone else.

Sirius was frustrated for many reasons and his frustration was growing more as almost nothing was achieved and he was surrounded by people who were seemingly content to be led blindly by the nose.

(BREAK)

The teens occupying the house had settled into a routine of sorts. They would spend their days cleaning without magic, much to their chagrin, and spend their evenings in respective exhaustive states doing very little besides eating and talking amongst themselves.

Hermione was finding it particularly difficult as she was not allowed in the library in the house and she had long since read everything she possessed. Ron and Ginny would spend their free time playing chess or talking about Quidditch as there was very little else they could do.

As soon as they had earned their freedom, the twins would spend hours locked in their room doing who knows what. The occasional bang and acrid smell being the only evidence they were still in the house. Everyone had learnt not to disturb them. They were now of age and whatever it was they were doing was perfectly above board, much to the annoyance of their mother who would scowl at the odd smells and sounds coming from their room.

They were all equally worried about Harry but knew there was nothing they could do in their position. All they could do was wait and see what would happen. It would be a nervous wait but a wait they had to endure.

Molly spent her days supervising the younger members of the household in their various tasks and cooking and cleaning when she could. The residing elf was a despicable, surly creature and Molly would not allow him to cook for anyone from fear that he would poison them all given the chance. She had had many run ins with the portrait of Walburga Black and the two could often be heard screeching at each other, which would result in Molly angrily drawing the curtains back over the offending painting. She was worried about Harry but had confidence in the judgement of Albus. If he said Harry was ok then she would believe he was fine until she knew otherwise.

Life in Grimmauld Place was tedious and equally tense. None of the occupants knew much of what was happening on the outside, but for now, they were safe and that was what was important to them all.

(BREAK)

Albus Dumbledore was still worried for the young missing teen but had long since concluded there was nothing more he could do to locate him. He had tried all he could in that regard.

He had attempted to send owls with tracking and location charms only to have the owl fly around his head in a confused state. He had even tried sending Fawkes to find the boy, but the phoenix simply shook his head at the request of his familiar. Dumbledore knew that if his phoenix could not find the boy then there was no way he would be found until the time was right, whenever that may be.

He knew Harry would eventually make an appearance but couldn't help but wonder what state he would be in when he did or what his plan would be. He knew the boy was resourceful and clever but hoped that wherever he was, he was safe and getting the help he would assuredly need.

(BREAK)

Lord Voldemort was still quietly seething about the robbery of the Potter boy's corpse. He had no doubt that the boy was dead, however. The tenuous connection he had felt to Potter for the last thirteen years was no longer there and he took comfort in that knowledge. He had had both Severus and Lucius on the lookout for any news of the boy's body turning up, but to no avail. It had simply vanished. He frowned at this knowing that bodies simply did not vanish and someone had knowledge of its whereabouts.

"They will pay," he vowed. "They will pay," he repeated to himself quietly, his fingers twitching towards his wand in anticipation.

His declaration made, he went back to his planning. There was much to do but he was in no rush. He knew with Potter dead; his success was all but a certainty.

(BREAK)

The last month for Harry had been as rewarding as it had been trying. He spent his waking hours studying everything he could from his various books and training both magically and physically. He spent almost all of his time alone as Arcturus was seldom around and was only seen at mealtimes.

It was during these times he would teach Harry small but important lessons. Harry had already learnt the importance of masking his emotions and what he was feeling. Arcturus had lectured him on the importance of face and how it was vital to one's appearance to appear calm and collected despite what they were feeling. Harry had learnt this lesson quite quickly and was becoming very good at remaining impassive just as the older man always seemed to be.

Arcturus had explained what it was that he himself was doing to Harry. He had shown him a memory of a conversation he had with Sirius's younger brother Regulus a few months before Voldemort had disappeared.

Harry was quite shocked by what he had understood of the conversation.

It pertained to something called Horcruxes that needed to be destroyed before Voldemort could truly be killed.

Initially Harry had been worried but had been assured by Arcturus that he was handling that particular problem and had made significant progress. Harry had, for the most part, put it out of his mind knowing and trusting that the older man had it under control.

His days were long and the first week of his training had been nothing short of brutal. He had followed the book he found in his grandfather's trunk religiously and a month of the regime had begun to benefit him greatly. He was currently wielding a large and heavy sledgehammer that he was using to smash into a large tyre that had been conjured by Arcturus for this phase of training. The training was based largely on conditioning his body so that he was athletic and nimble. It was not about building a mass of muscle but the muscular gains would be significant and well-conditioned.

His diet was largely rather boring to him but it complimented his physical regime well. He would mostly eat oats and fruit for breakfast, meat, rice and vegetables for main meals and he would snack on various fruits and vegetables throughout the day. He drank copious amounts of water to keep himself hydrated throughout his workouts and continued taking the nutrient potions that he had been provided with.

Even only after one month the changes within him were quite astounding. He had grown just over another inch and his body was showing visual results from his efforts. He was by no means a chiselled specimen but he was becoming quite athletic. Arcturus had explained that his magic was working in healing his body quickly so the results would be much quicker in his body than that of a muggle.

Harry finished his ninety seconds set of the sledgehammer and wiped the sweat from his brow. Although he was very busy, he still thought about his friends a lot and missed them considerably.

He was worried about Hedwig and the fact that he had not seen her in some time also. He hadn't expected to receive any mail while he was here but until recently had clung on to some hope that he would hear from his friends.

Shaking himself from his thoughts he made his way back to the house and to the basement where he would practice his spell work.

He had made a huge amount of progress with his spells and in particular, the ones in the book Arcturus had given him that he and his grandfather had created. At first, he had felt reluctant at casting them but one look at the photo of his family, of him in his grandmother's arms had put the reluctance to rest.

He would begin and end each day looking at that photo to fuel his motivation further. Since he started doing this his resolve had remained firm; he would make Riddle pay for what he had done.

The difficulty in learning the family magic was that the spells would only work if they were cast silently. For Harry this was new but he found that it was much easier than he had anticipated. At first his reluctance to cast had hindered his progress but after a stern dressing down from Arcturus and the extra determination he gained from looking at his photo it became easier as each day had passed. Within a fortnight he could cast the majority of his magic silently but he knew he needed more practice to be able to perform his entire repertoire and perfect the technique, something he knew would take much time and effort.

He began his training as he usually did by casting spells at the training dummy that Arcturus had provided for him. The dummy was unique as it would show him the exact effects the curses would have on a human body. Arcturus insisted he trained this way so it would be less of a shock when he saw the effects on a real person, he had explained that it would desensitise him to the gore of battle.

Harry agreed that it was necessary but was not entirely comfortable with what he saw.

He was about halfway through his routine when the door opened and Arcturus entered. This was not a usual occurrence, in fact, it was the first time he had come in as Harry was training.

"It has been a month, Potter," he remarked. "Show me what you can do," he requested, folding his arms waiting for the boy to comply.

He watched in silence as Harry cast the spells with ease at the dummy and was admittedly impressed with his progress. When the boy finished, he simply waited for further instruction.

"Good," the older man said. "But you need to be faster. Let's see how you're getting along with your movement and shielding," he finished. waving his wand so the dummy would split into 3 separate opponents.

The dummies immediately started firing curse after curse at Harry who dodged and shielded as best he could against the onslaught. By the end he had only been hit twice but knew he had more work to do; he could not afford to be hit once, particularly with Tom's habit of casting the killing curse.

"You try to shield when you should be dodging," Arcturus surmised critically. "Have you tried redirecting the spells yet?"

"No sir," Harry replied. "I'm not sure I can do it," he added a little ashamed.

"Well there is only one way to find out," Arcturus muttered before firing a Stinging Hex towards Harry's hip.

Harry grimaced in pain at the unexpected hex and rubbed the now tender area as he frowned. He knew the theory behind spell redirection but was not sure he was strong enough to do it yet.

He steeled himself and waited for another hex, one that came quickly. He immediately released a short burst of magic into his wand and flicked the spell away in an elaborate fashion.

"Do not be so erratic with your wand movement, it is unnecessary," the older man instructed. "it should be nothing more than a casual flick and it will work against almost all spells except the Unforgivable's of course. Have faith in your ability and be confident. Try again."

This time Harry was calmer knowing that if the spell did hit it would only cause him a little pain. He repeated what he had before but instead of a dramatic wave of his wand he simply flicked the spell away from him just before it could make contact. Before he could congratulate himself, another curse was fired at him, this time one of a darker nature; a blood boiling curse. Instinctively he flicked it away again as he had the last stinging hex but couldn't help the increase in his heart rate and breathing at the deadlier spell.

"See, it is exactly the same thing," Arcturus pointed out, ignoring the glare he was receiving from the boy. "Now practice that," he commanded indicating the three dummies which began firing at the boy again.

Harry practiced this for some time and found it was much easier this way than shielding. He found it less tiring and it gave him more freedom and fluidity in his movements. He felt light and graceful not having to plant his feet to conjure a shield and he knew it was much more beneficial to him.

After around twenty minutes of this the older man deemed his efforts suitable and froze the dummies.

"Good," he praised. "Have you been studying the parselmagic books?"

"Yes sir" Harry replied. "The magic can't be cast silently I think it is because of the language."

Arcturus nodded in agreement at the boy's theory knowing it was likely that he was right.

"How far have you progressed?"

"I have read them all and have worked out how to use the language at will. I just have to focus a small amount of magic and intend to speak it," he answered, proud of his progress.

"Very well," Arcturus replied. "Is there anything useful in there?"

"Yes sir, the battle spells will be useful and I think the wards will be too" he answered confidently.

Arcturus only nodded in reply. He was no longer surprised by the Potter boy and what he could achieve when he put his mind to it. He had seen his memories of his life before and during Hogwarts and had initially been taken aback at the existence he had been forced into but now his diligence to his training and his attitude was more easily understood.

Before he could question the boy further, he found himself on the receiving end of a question that surprised him.

"Mr Black, can we go to my relative's home so I can put up some Parseltongue wards?" Harry asked. "If I do then I know they will be protected and only Voldemort would, may, be able to break them. I can ward the house against ill intent and Riddle's magic which means anyone with the Dark Mark can't get in."

Arcturus was impressed by the boys' idea but could not understand why he would do such a thing for those disgusting muggles.

"You wish to protect them after all they have done to you?"

"They're the only family I have left," Harry answered sadly. "Regardless of what they have done. my mother would want me to protect them."

Arcturus looked firmly at the boy but could understand his view on family. It was similar to his own and he knew he would do the same, despite his disappointment in his relatives.

"We will go tomorrow," he answered before exiting the room leaving Harry alone again.

Harry finished his training and headed to his room now tired from his day's effort. He was surprised upon entering the room to hear a tapping from the window being caused by a large tawny owl with amber eyes. Confused, he opened the window to allow the bird to enter and removed the note that was tied to its leg. With its burden removed the owl left immediately leaving Harry clutching the note it had delivered.

He unfurled it to find a photo drop to the floor which he immediately picked up and gazed at. In the photo was his parents and two other people he did not recognise. Both couples were holding small babies between them. Harry began to read the note to ascertain who would send him such a thing.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm not sure if this note will reach you but thought I would at least try. My Gran told me that you were safe even though no one knows where you are, she told me she spoke to Professor Dumbledore during some meeting. I just wanted to wish you a Happy Birthday wherever you are and I hope that you are safe. I knew your birthday was the day after mine as you can see in the photo our parents were friends. I'm sure you are aware that the papers are still trying to figure out what is going on and are spending all of their time guessing where you are and making Dumbledore out to be insane. Anyway, write back if you can and I hope to see you on the train to Hogwarts._

_Neville Longbottom_

To say Harry was surprised was an understatement. He was experiencing a maelstrom of emotions ranging from confusion to annoyance. If Neville could write to him, then why had no one else tried? Why hadn't his friends written to him if they knew he was safe? He had thought that there were wards in place to stop mail but had he been wrong? He knew he would need to speak to Arcturus in the morning.

In his busy state he hadn't even realised his birthday had crept up on him. Not that it mattered as he had never really received anything for his birthday but he had at least thought that he would get a letter or two from Ron and Hermione. He wouldn't worry about it now, he had much more important things to do.

He began his evening routine of studying his grandfathers' notebooks and eventually showered and climbed in to bed to sleep. The sleep did not come easy on this night as he had so much on his mind but that would have to wait until the morning. Eventually he drifted off and slept soundly until he woke to the smell of breakfast being prepared.

He woke in a thoughtful mood and found that he was not particularly happy today. He showered and prepared in his usual way before heading to drawing room to eat breakfast where Arcturus was already sat at the table reading the newspaper.

"I thought you would be in a better mood after finally hearing from your friends," he stated seeing the frown that adorned the young man's face.

"How did you know someone had written to me?" Harry asked slightly surprised.

"The wards alert me of anything that passes them," Arcturus answered. "I'm surprised it took this long for someone to write to you."

"I thought you had wards up to stop any mail," Harry replied.

The older man shook his head. "I told you, you are not a prisoner here. The wards will only stop tracking or location charms and things like portkeys or anything dangerous."

"So, anyone could have written to me any time?" Harry asked his annoyance growing.

"Yes," the older man replied. "But your friends have written to you now so what is the problem?".

"It wasn't the friends I thought it would be. It was a birthday note from another friend at school," Harry answered, a scowl marring his features.

"Maybe they have been instructed not to write," Arcturus offered.

"Maybe," Harry conceded. "It doesn't really matter. I guess it's not like it will make any difference if they write or not."

He was quite miffed with his friends but knew brooding wouldn't help; he would get his answers eventually. He put the thoughts of them to the back of his mind and began eating his breakfast.

"We will go to your relatives tonight," Arcturus announced, the distaste for the muggles evident in his voice. "Have you tried apparating yet?"

"No sir, I've read the theory but didn't want to try it on my own in case it went wrong," Harry explained grimacing at the description he had read on splinching.

"A wise move," Arcturus agreed. "We will work on it today; it is very important for everyday travel and can be used in a fight effectively."

Harry just nodded his head and finished his breakfast.

After the plates had been cleared Arcturus led Harry to the room he used for training. He waved his wand clearing everything to the sides, creating a space for them to work. He waved his wand again and a circle appeared on the other side of the room etched into the floor.

"Most of the theory on apparating is useless," he began. "It is much simpler to think of where you want to be, draw on your magic the same way you do while casting and will yourself to your destination" he explained as though it was the easiest thing in the world. "Like so," he said, vanishing silently and appearing in the circle he had created.

A split second later he had returned to where he was previously standing.

"It only takes practice to get it right, that's all the advice I can give you," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "Now, you try."

Harry had taken everything in he had been told but was not very confident in the advice he had been given. However, he shrugged off his doubts and began to do what he had been told. He drew on his magic and willed himself into the circle as he had been instructed to and was surprised to hear a loud crack. He opened his eyes feeling disorientated for a brief second only to find that he was exactly where he had been.

"Not bad," Arcturus praised bowing his head. "But you hesitated so you went nowhere, now try again."

It took him the best part of an hour to successfully apparate into the circle and after he had done it once it became easier the more he did it. By the time he was comfortable with the new method of transport, it was lunch time.

"I want you to work on your spells after lunch," Arcturus broke in while they were eating their meal. "You can perform the spells now you need to be able to chain them together quickly one after the other and work out what spells chain well together. You also need to work on combining them like your grandfather used to. When he fought Gaulitier you saw how he combined the fog, the wind and the flames. It will give you another edge if you can create and use combinations like that."

Harry agreed that working on his casting, chaining and combinations was a beneficial way to spend time and knew it would be taking up much of his magical training from then on. He nodded in reply at the older man and stood to make his to the training room.

As he got to the door, he was stopped in his tracks by Arcturus questioning him further.

"Are you also completing your school and theory work?" he asked. "You will still have exams to complete."

"Yes sir" Harry replied. "But I guess I could put more effort into it" he added sheepishly raking a hand through his hair, knowing it was one of the more neglected aspects of his training.

"Ensure that you do, Potter," Arcturus warned in a scolding tone. "Get practicing. I will return in time for us to go to your relatives," he added somewhat suddenly rising and leaving the room.

Harry shook his head and made his way to the training room to begin work on his spells.

He spent several fruitful hours working on the various casting and spell techniques before he was interrupted by the return of the older man who gave no explanation of where he had been or what he had been doing. They ate their evening meal in silence and Harry used the time to steel his resolve at facing his relatives again, something he was not looking forward to. All too soon they had finished eating and Arcturus stood and gestured for Harry to do the same.

"I will apparate us there and you can get yourself back here, it's exactly the same as you were doing earlier," he explained seeing a slightly nervous look on the boy's face. He removed his wand and cast a spell that Harry recognised as a magical signature concealer, a spell from the Black magic on both of them.

"Better to be cautious than reckless," he said seriously. "Where do they live?"

"Little Whinging in Surrey," Harry replied.

With that, the older man grasped Harry by the forearm and apparated them away. They landed in a park that Harry recognised that wasn't too far from where the Dursleys' lived.

"Let's go," Arcturus instructed, gesturing for Harry to take the lead.

He led them through the park and under the bridge that took them into Privet Drive. He suddenly stopped feeling a familiar sense of cold overcome him that was not typical of a July evening.

"You feel it too?" Arcturus asked looking around.

"Dementors" Harry clarified, "but they aren't that close," he added mimicking the older man's searching look.

"Stay sharp, Potter. If things go bad apparate back," Arcturus instructed.

Harry nodded as they continued on their way. The coldness left quickly and before he was truly ready, they had arrived at number four. Arcturus sensed the nervousness of the boy and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"These are not allies, Potter, nor are they enemies in a manner of speaking," he said shaking his head. "Handle it the way your grandfather would, be firm and do not let them take liberties with you. Make them respect you."

He saw the steely look take its place as Harry's posture and stature became tall but relaxed. He nodded in approval and allowed the boy to lead him to the front door.

Harry braced himself and pushed it open confidently and stepped inside followed closely behind by Arcturus. At the sound of the front door closing they were confronted by the three Dursleys', two morbidly obese and one as thin and horse-like as ever.

"What is the meaning of this boy?" his uncle questioned turning the usual shade of purple when he was in close proximity to his nephew. "The crackpot old fool said you would be away for the whole summer," he finished spraying his unwelcome guests with a vast quantity of spittle.

Arcturus was furious at the demeanour the overweight buffoon was displaying towards his nephew and was ready to curse him with all manner of vile spells. Before he could however, the boy took charge of the situation.

"Unless you want to be killed very slowly and painfully, Vernon, I suggest you shut up and listen for once in your life."

"Are you threatening me boy?" the large man roared in apoplectic rage. "I won't have it, I will beat the freakishness out of you this time" he screamed, stepping forward.

Before he could complete his first step Harry had drawn his wand and quickly and silently fired three spells at his Uncle. Vernon now found himself unable to speak and stuck to the wall by his ample girth.

Harry shook his head at his uncle's stupidity and turned to look at his Aunt who was stood stunned and looked more pale than usual.

"Are you sensible enough to listen Petunia or should I leave and let you all face what's out there?" he asked her in a quiet but serious voice.

"What do you mean?" Petunia finally managed to reply shakily.

"He's back, the one who killed my parents," Harry answered.

"He can't be," Petunia whispered. "That Dumbledore man said he was dead."

"Well he's not and when he realise I am still alive, I am guessing he will come here. But if you give me ten minutes, I can make sure you are protected," he offered.

"But we are already protected," his Aunt responded confusedly.

Without preamble, Arcturus drew his wand and began casting a detection spell, mumbling in Latin. He frowned at the results and turned to Harry to explain.

"The blood wards are on the brink of collapse and any other wards that were here aren't anymore. There are only a few detection spells," he informed the teen.

Harry nodded not having expected much more from Dumbledore based on his own experience of the man's protections.

"There you have it, you're not as protected as you thought," Harry explained to the now wide-eyed woman. "Do you want my help or not, I do not have all night?" he asked irritably.

"What will you do?" Petunia inquired nervously.

"I will put my own wards up that will keep anyone magical out of the house and defend you if it is attacked. I will then place a spell on you that will automatically transport you back here if someone or something magical comes within 10 feet of you when you are in public" Harry explained.

Arcturus listened and was very impressed at the plan the boy had come up with. He nodded in approval at Potter's ingenuity but continued glaring at his Aunt in contempt. It had taken a lot of self-control not to interfere but it was not his business to dish out justice here so he remained silent and allowed the boy to do what he wanted.

"Okay," Petunia agreed, wilting under the hateful glare she was receiving from the old man who had come with her nephew.

Harry set to work and began by casting the spells on Petunia, a completely silent Dudley and a still subdued and silenced Vernon. Arcturus was impressed with the parselmagic even though he could not understand what was said, he could see that it was quite complex and was pleased with the progress the boy had made with his control of the language.

"It's time for the wards, now everyone stay back," Harry said in a soft but commanding voice. He raised his wand above his head and began chanting in parseltongue while waving one intricate pattern after another. He continued in this fashion feeling the protections rooting themselves in place the further into his spell work he got.

(BREAK)

Albus Dumbledore was currently sitting at the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place, listening to the various members of the order voicing their grievances at the lack of information they were receiving and subsequent lack of success they were having with their endeavours. He understood their frustrations but knew there was little more they could be doing until Voldemort came out in the open, which he seemed reluctant to do for the time being. This did worry Dumbledore because he knew that in the times of quiet, Tom was planning something, usually significant. He was brought out of his thoughts by the usually quiet Alastor Moody, scolding the group assembled at the table.

"Albus will tell us when it is necessary," he growled in his usual manner. "If we all know everything then there is more chance that someone we don't want knowing finding out," he finished, his magical eye spinning wildly in its socket.

"Thank you, Alastor," Dumbledore responded gratefully bowing his head to his friend.

Before he could continue however, he was alerted by one of his detection spells he had placed at number 4 Privet Drive. Everyone at the table looked at him expectantly when they saw his demeanour change from calm to grave in a mere second.

"What is it Albus?" Moody asked curiously.

Dumbledore frowned but stood sharply when he realised what had happened.

"Someone has raised wards around Harry's relatives' home," he explained urgently.

The assembled members shot to their feet and began talking in tandem, creating a confusing situation. It took a minute for Dumbledore to calm them which took a loud bang from his wand to gain the silence he needed.

"Minerva, Arthur, Bill, Alastor, Remus and Nymphadora, you will come with me," he commanded, quickly creating a portkey from the days newspaper that had been left on the table.

Before they could take the portkey, Sirius stepped forward looking nervous but eager.

"I'm coming too," he said defiantly.

"I'm afraid not, Sirius," Dumbledore denied the man, shaking his head. "There's a chance that members of the ministry will show and you know you can't be seen," he finished apologetically, knowing that the man only wished to help any way he could.

Sirius growled in response and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"He will get over it," Remus said unsurely.

"Shouldn't we be going?" Moody interjected impatiently.

At his words, the chosen members all grabbed the newspaper and disappeared with familiar feeling of being hooked through the navel.

(BREAK)

Harry finished his chanting, nodded to Arcturus to indicate he had finished and turned to his aunt.

"It's done, you will be safe now, the way my mum would have wanted," he said his tone devoid of any care. "Now, hopefully we will never have to see each other again whether or not I survive this war." He then flicked his wand casually and released Vernon from his binds and made his way to the front door.

"Harry?" Petunia asked before he could exit.

Harry stopped but did not turn to look at his aunt; in his eyes they no longer had any business. It did sadden him slightly that they never had any real relationship but he had long ago accepted that that was the hand he had been dealt.

"Thank you," Petunia said to her nephew's back. "For protecting us," she added a little sadly.

Harry simply nodded before exiting the house for what he hoped would be the final time. Arcturus looked at the three assembled Dursleys' in disgust.

"You're very lucky that he is a decent human being," he spoke quietly. "If it was me, I would have cursed you within an inch of your life and let Riddle have what was left."

With a final shake of his head and a look of loathing at the occupants, he left the house to catch up with his young charge.

Harry left the house and breathed a sigh of relief. He was shortly joined by Arcturus who gave him a nod of approval.

"We will go a little further up the road before we apparate," he told the boy.

They made their way further up the street and again came to a sudden stop when they felt a sudden cold creep into their very bones.

Harry turned to Arcturus.

"They are much closer this time," he deduced, drawing his wand and scanning the area.

"Indeed, " Arcturus concurred worriedly.

Harry felt the cold creeping in even more so and began to hear his mother pleading for her life in the way he had become accustomed to in the presence of the Dementors. He immediately thought of the photo on his bedside table of him in his Grandmother's arms and prepared himself. He heard a gentle ripple of a cloak from behind him and turned to see two of the foul creatures descending upon him and Arcturus who seemed to have frozen with a vacant look on his face.

"Expecto Patronum," Harry barely whispered, knowing that two of the creatures were not a problem for him.

His now familiar Thestral erupted from the tip of his wand and galloped audibly towards the offending beasts who immediately fled the onslaught from the violently bright light that bathed the entire street in an eerie glow.

"It's time to leave, Potter. That would have gotten some attention," the older man said a little shakily before promptly and silently disapparating.

Before Harry could concentrate enough to apparate away he was distracted by the arrival of a group of people around twenty feet in front of him, some of whom he recognised.

A pink haired woman in the group unexpectedly fired what he realised was a stunning spell at him which he instinctively returned back towards her with immense speed. The spell hit her squarely in the chest and sent her flying backwards into who Harry saw was Remus Lupin and Arthur Weasley, who found themselves on the ground in a tangle of limbs. With a wave of his wand Harry conjured the black fog he had seen his grandfather use and banished it towards the group. He then added a circle of fire that surrounded them before he apparated away, back to the safety of the house.

He did not feel guilty for what he had done. He was still raw from the fact that none of these people had tried to contact him, even to see if he was safe.

(BREAK)

After a minute, Dumbledore managed to dispel the fog and the flames and looked towards the spot where Harry had been standing. Dumbledore was impressed with the speed and magic Harry had displayed and felt a little easier having seen the boy himself.

"Was that Potter?" Minerva asked disbelievingly.

"Indeed, it was," Dumbledore answered. "It appears that Mr Potter has grown in many ways," he added amusedly.

"Why did he attack us?" Bill asked, confused.

"The boy was defending himself," Moody interjected. "And he did a fine job," he finished looking annoyed at the still unconscious auror.

"That was quite some speed," Remus added, standing and rubbing his lower back. "And that spell packed quite a punch," he concluded wincing slightly. He then revived Tonks who looked confused at her predicament and quickly stood when she remembered what had happened.

"Ouch," she complained, rubbing her chest. "I'm going to feel that for a week, who the hell was that?"

"I believe you have just met Mr Potter," Dumbledore answered with a chuckle.

"That was Potter?" the auror growled, peeved that she had been bested by a fifteen-year-old. "He looks nothing like I thought he would that's why I fired at him."

"Maybe you will learn not to be overzealous in the future or at least be prepared for a counter," Moody scolded his protégé.

Tonks just mumbled under her breath, not happy with the events of the evening.

Dumbledore made the short journey to number 4 followed by the group to ascertain exactly what had happened. When he reached the boundary, he felt a very strong magic being emitted by what he knew was a powerful ward. He raised his hand to bring the group to a stop and drew his wand to run a diagnostic charm. He frowned deeply at the results and cast several more charms to try to decipher what the unfamiliar magic was. He drew a blank. The magical signature had been concealed completely and the ward was completely unfamiliar to him. He managed to figure out that anyone who tried to pass the ward would experience a severe amount of pain and likely death.

He had a sudden idea.

"Bill, have you ever come across a ward scheme like this on your travels?" he asked the curse breaker.

Bill stepped forward and ran a more in-depth series of diagnostic spells before blanching and stepping back very quickly.

"Only once," he replied clearly shaken. "In Egypt a few years ago, we came across something similar and two of our team died trying to break the wards," he explained. "After that we were told to seal the tomb and leave. It needs a specific language to even be able to try and break them and even then it is a very complex set of wards that will need specific passwords and incantations to make it even remotely possible to break," he finished his explanation to the shocked group.

"Did you ever figure out what language it was?" Remus asked.

"No," Bill answered shaking his head. "It is either an entirely made up language or one so scarce that only very few and certain people can speak it," he said shrugging his shoulders.

"Like parseltongue?" Remus asked.

Bill looked at the werewolf curiously.

"It is definitely a possibility," he conceded, scratching his chin. "If that is the case, then only a parselmouth could break these wards and they would need very in-depth training in ward breaking to do it or be the one who put them up in the first place."

"Harry must have put these wards up knowing that," Remus mumbled to himself.

"Wait a minute, Potter is a parselmouth?" Tonks asked incredulously.

"Yes, he is," Remus answered firmly at the challenging tone the auror showed and the shocked look from those who were unaware. "That does not make him dark."

"Tell that to my poor chest," the auror replied quietly. "I didn't know that the Potters had parselmouth's in their lineage."

"Harry comes from both the Potter and the Black families," Lupin answered. "But Dumbledore thinks that his ability is a trait left over from the killing curse he was hit with as a baby," he added looking at Dumbledore who looked thoughtful.

"Perhaps he inherited the ability from his Black heritage after all," Dumbledore mused aloud, pulling gently on his beard. "Being hit by the curse again would have removed the ability I believe, so perhaps it was always his own and was no way linked to Voldemort."

The group was suddenly interrupted by several pops and were quickly surrounded by aurors, led by Madame Bones and the Minister of Magic himself.

"Ahh Dumbledore," the minister greeted the headmaster rubbing his hands together. "Out causing more trouble, are we?" he asked rhetorically. "I think it is best you and your friends be on your way we have business with Mr Potter."

"Cornelius, you know as well as I do that Mr Potter has been missing for over a month and as you can see, he is not here," Dumbledore returned feeling content with the look of annoyance on Fudges face.

"You're hiding him," the man roared, purple with rage. "There's been a lot of magical activity here tonight and I know that Potter is responsible."

"You will not find any trace of Mr Potter here, Cornelius, I can assure you," Dumbledore retorted confidently with the twinkle in his eye prominent with amusement.

"What are you all doing here then?" the Minister questioned with suspicion evident in his voice.

"Ahh well as you know I have detection spells in Harry's relatives house to monitor any possible threat here and I was alerted by them earlier," Dumbledore answered Jovially.

"Why are they all here?" the Minister questioned again gesturing to the assembled group.

"You see, Cornelius, we were simply having a drink when I was alerted and my friends here insisted on accompanying me on my trip," he answered smoothly.

"And all the spells?" Fudge asked through greeted teeth.

"It seems that young Nymphadora here got a little carried away as we arrived and in her drunken eager state fired prematurely. I simply repaired the damage and that's when you arrived," Dumbledore fabricated, inclining his head towards the now furious minister.

"We will see what the boy's relatives have to say on the matter," Fudge replied triumphantly.

"I am afraid that won't be possible, Cornelius," Dumbledore sighed. "It appears that a rascal of some sort has placed a very complex ward scheme over the house and it is now impossible for magical folk to enter. I daresay this is now one of the best protected properties in the country, perhaps even the best."

"Get me a team of ward breakers," Fudge shouted at his contingency.

"There is no point, Cornelius, I am afraid your efforts would be fruitless. Mr Weasley here is a curse breaker and assures me that the wards were created using an unrecognisable language and even if the language was known, they are password protected and could be anything," he concluded again with the same amusement.

"Just leave," the minister roared. "All of you get lost."

Dumbledore and the gathered members of the order of the phoenix left after giving Amelia Bones a nod in acknowledgement. As soon as they arrived back at Grimmauld Place they were accosted by a frantic Sirius.

"Was it Harry? Is he ok?" he asked Remus who was more amused than the situation should allow.

"Oh, Harry is fine," the werewolf answered laughing. "Isn't he Tonks?" he added laughing harder.

The auror simply growled before storming into the kitchen and ignoring the questioning glance she received from her cousin.

"What the hell happened?" Sirius asked impatiently.

"Let's just say that Harry got the jump on us and your cousin ended up the worst off," Remus answered, still laughing.

At the confused look of his friend Remus explained from beginning to end what had happened. By the time he was finished Sirius had tears rolling down his face and his usual playful demeanour was back in full swing.

"He really did that?" he asked proudly feeling much more relaxed knowing Remus had seen Harry.

"Yes," Remus answered seriously. "He's different Sirius, the speed and power was something else."

"At least we know he is safe. I just wish I knew where he is," the other man sighed, shaking his head sadly.

(BREAK)

Harry arrived back in the training room and took a moment to collect himself before he made his way to find Arcturus. He entered the drawing room to find the man sat behind his desk clutching a glass of what seemed to be Firewhisky. He looked a little shaken but acknowledged the teen by raising his glass and then draining it.

"What kept you?" he asked placing his now empty glass on the desk.

"Dumbledore decided to make an appearance with a group of people," Harry answered. "I take it Dementors affect you quite badly?"

"It's fine," Arcturus dismissed the boy with a wave of his hand. "They make me feel like I'm back on the battlefield for the first time that's all. Did you speak to him?"

"No," Harry answered shaking his head. "One of his group attacked me so I got out of there as soon as I could."

"They probably didn't recognise you, you do look very different," Arcturus pointed out. "Anyway, I made a trip to the ministry today and got these," he said handing Harry four maroon folders. "They are your parents and grandparents Hogwarts files" he explained seeing the confused look on the boys' face. "I thought they would be a better birthday present than anything else I could think of and I'm sure once you see their achievements, it will motivate you to work on your academic studies a little more. It is all well and good reading Charlus's books but you have your own path to carve, don't forget to live your own life and not get lost in those of people who are no longer here."

Harry took the folders and pondered what had just been said. He knew the older man was right, he knew that he needed to focus more on his own life than living in the past. He had found it difficult as he had never known much about his family and now, he had all the information he had never had before.

Yes, he had been training hard but knowing he wasn't going back to Hogwarts anytime soon he had largely neglected his schoolwork. It was clear to him that Arcturus thought it was important, so he would take the older man's advice. He opened the folder on the top of the pile and saw that it was his Grandmother's. He read the contents and was quite surprised at what he saw.

He was even more impressed by her than he had been. Her academic record was impressive, 11 OWLS and 7 NEWTS all graded either an O or an E. What surprised him more was the amount of detentions she had received from her fifth year onwards.

"How did she get so many detentions?" he asked Arcturus in confusion.

The older man looked very amused as he answered.

"Well, after the incident where you Grandfather assisted her, it seems that she really began sticking up for herself," he began. "I told you she was a formidable witch and many people found that out in her last years at school. I think she wanted to impress Charlus or he simply gave her the confidence to fight back," he concluded proudly.

Harry smiled at the thought of the timid girl he had seen in the memory defending herself. He placed the folder on the desk and opened the next folder which belonged to his grandfather. It read similarly to his grandmothers but he had 8 OWLS and 7 NEWTS. His OWL results were flawless excluding potions which was awful.

"He really got a D in potions?" Harry asked.

"He really was useless with potions," Arcturus said shaking his head. "It was one of his few shortcomings."

Harry placed the folder next to his Grandmother's on the desk and opened the next. It belonged to his father. This was the thickest folder by some margin and Harry immediately saw why. There was sheet after sheet of detentions for various pranks and fights he had gotten himself in. A consistent name he saw was that of Severus Snape. Harry frowned at that. No wonder he hated Harry if the contents of this file were anything to go by.

Harry passed over the rest of the detention forms and looked at his father's achievements. Although he was quite the prankster it was clear that he did study. He received all O's and an E in potions on all of his OWLS and NEWTS. Harry was surprised. He had expected his father to be less academic at best. He now felt guilty for not applying himself more to his studies over the years. If truth be told, he had been less than mediocre in his efforts.

He shook his head at his own academic performance and the disappointment he was feeling. His father had even been Head boy. Harry felt like a failure. He had failed his parents and he had failed himself so far. He placed the folder on the desk with the others and looked at the final one, the one that belonged to his mother.

He opened it already expecting to feel worse; he did not expect to feel as bad as he did.

His Mother had achieved considerably more than the others. She had 14 OWLS graded O with an O+ in charms and her NEWTS were identical.

She had been a prefect and Head girl and even achieved a charms mastery when she finished at Hogwarts. Harry was simply ashamed at his lacklustre performance and felt sick. His parents would be appalled by his grades if they were alive. He placed the folder with the others and stood. He needed to change his schedule; he needed to do much better if he wanted to live up to his family name.

He left the room not even bidding farewell to the older man who was looking pleased with what he saw.

Arcturus knew the boy was disappointed but knew it would give him the motivation he needed to do better.

The older man went to bed that night knowing he had done the right thing by his friend and sister. They too wouldn't tolerate mediocrity in school.

"He will get there," he whispered to the empty room.


	5. Endurance

**Chapter 5: Endurance**

It was now September 1st and the teenage occupants of Grimmauld Place had just made it to the Hogwarts express in their usually late fashion. Fred and George quickly left to find their friend Lee Jordan, leaving the other three to make their way on to the train. They boarded the express and managed to find a near-empty compartment in the very last carriage, the only two people inside were Neville Longbottom and a girl who was in Ginny's year, Luna Lovegood.

Neville looked relieved when the other teens entered the compartment and seemed to visibly relax considerably. He had lost a lot of weight over the summer and he no longer had the chubby, boyish face. He now resembled more the growing teen he was and not an oversized child.

"I have to go to the prefect's carriage for a meeting," Hermione announced quietly.

"Congratulations, Hermione," Neville praised. "It was a no-brainer that you would get it."

"Thank you, Neville," she replied gratefully as she left.

Ron simply looked irritated, he thought that with Harry being missing then he stood a chance at being made prefect also but that had not happened.

"Who got the male position in Gryffindor?" he asked sullenly, noticing Neville wasn't wearing the badge.

"Dean Thomas got it, I saw him on the platform."

"Dean?" Ron questioned critically, "But he's an idiot."

"He gets the best grades in our dorm and he stays out of trouble." Neville shrugged. "Makes sense to me with Harry not coming back".

"How do you know he's not coming back?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"He wrote to me after I sent him a birthday present," Neville answered. "But he told me not to talk about it to anyone except you guys. He said you knew he was ok."

"We haven't heard from him at all," Ron moaned moodily. "Why would he write to you?"

"Did you write to him?" Neville returned.

"Well, no, I thought he would write when he could," Ron muttered, his ears turning red in annoyance and embarrassment.

"So, you just sent him an owl and he got it?" Ginny broke in.

"That's right," Neville confirmed. "How else would you write to someone?".

"He's going to be so furious with us," Ginny sighed.

"Definitely," Neville agreed.

"He can't be mad at us," Ron pointed out. "And even if he is, he will get over it."

Before Neville could reply Ginny intervened seeing the peeved demeanour the other boy was now sporting.

"What did he say in his letter?" She enquired.

"He just said he's okay and has a lot to do, to keep everything between us and he will see us all soon enough," Neville answered ominously as the door opened and an irritated looking Hermione entered. Upon sensing the atmosphere in the compartment, she looked at each person, waiting for an explanation.

"Harry wrote to Neville," Ron said sulkily.

Hermione was taken aback. Of all the trivial things she was expecting, this wasn't it. She had so many questions running through her mind that they all came spewing out in one long sentence.

"How is he? Is he ok? When is he coming back? What did he say to you? Why would he write to you and not us?" she finished breathlessly.

"He is ok but we have to keep it to ourselves," Neville responded, gesturing to those present. His eyes went wide in terror as they fell on to Luna who he had forgotten was still there. "Luna, you can't say anything to anyone" he said pleadingly.

The other girl seemed to snap out of some form of trance and seemed surprised by how many people were in the compartment with her.

"I'm sorry were you all talking about something?" she questioned. "I was thinking about my summer. Myself and my father went to Sweden looking for many wonderful creatures," she finished, seemingly ignorant of any conversation that had taken place.

Neville breathed a sigh of relief and simply mouthed the word 'later' to Hermione who had now taken her seat.

"Who are the other prefects?" Ron asked.

"Take a guess," Hermione answered sourly.

Ron groaned knowing that that sour tone could only mean one thing.

Before he could answer, the compartment door opened and in stepped a gleeful looking Malfoy flanked unsurprisingly by Crabbe and Goyle with Pansy Parkinson in tow.

"Ahh Weasel," he drawled. "See this?" he asked pointing to the silver badge that was pinned to his robes. "This proves what I have always known. That I am better than you," he finished laughing at the reaction he was getting from the redhead.

Ron was furious but before he could react, Ginny grabbed the back of his robes and pulled him tightly into the seat, restraining him.

"Piss off, Malfoy," he replied through gritted.

"Uh uh Ahh Weasel, you should respect your betters," Malfoy replied waggling his finger under Ron's nose. "There's no more scar-head to protect you. Rumour has it his corpse is nothing more than a trophy over a very special fireplace."

The other occupants in the carriage were furious but Malfoy and his goons left quickly before any retribution could be had.

"I'm going to kill him," Ron shouted furiously.

"Forget it, Ron" Hermione advised. "You know Malfoy is only talk and he will get a big surprise when he finds out that Harry is ok," she huffed, attempting to calm the boy.

The rest of the journey passed by quickly enough and the subsequent trip to the castle was over before the teens could begin to enjoy. Thankfully, Malfoy had busied himself by lording his new powers over other students and they made it to their house table without further incident. More than one curious eye looked in their direction briefly and the teens had no doubt that they were searching for any sign of their wayward friend.

"It's obvious he isn't here," Ron mumbled, glaring at a group of Hufflepuffs who had the temerity to stare longer than warranted.

"Ignore them," Hermione whispered.

Before Ron could reply, Dumbledore rose from his seat at the centre of the staff table, his eyes twinkling in their usual way. The hall fell silent as he raised his arms to garner the attention of the students and staff.

"Welcome both new and returning students," he began. "Before we get to the announcements of the year, I believe it is both prudent and customary to first dine on the fine food offered here at Hogwarts," he finished waving a hand across the breadth of the hall causing the empty plates and dishes to fill with an assortment of food.

"Who is that?" Neville asked indicating to the only new member of staff at the table, a short stout woman wearing a pink cardigan and a matching bow in her hair.

Ron swallowed the mouthful of food he had before he looked towards the woman.

"New defence professor," he shrugged before continuing his onslaught on the platter of foods that had materialised before them.

"She doesn't look up to much does she," Neville said before adding food to his own plate.

Hermione shrugged and took in the appearance of the squat woman. She didn't appear happy to be here and the sour expression she wore did nothing to reassure her. She shook her head and she too began eating.

The rest of the meal past in companionable silence and the students waited patiently for Dumbledore to conclude the feast so they could make their way to their respective dormitories. Eventually, he rose and the room fell silent once again.

"Again, welcome to you all," he began. "Firstly, the forbidden forest is just that; forbidden to all students old and new," he said aiming a glance at the Weasley twins who were looking every bit the picture of innocence.

"Mr Filch has asked me to remind you that a list of all banned items can be found attached to his office door for those that may need reminding" he explained, again looking at the twins.

"And finally, we have only one staff change this year. Please join me in welcoming Madame Umbridge who will be taking over as your Defence against the Dark Arts lessons for this year," he said starting a round of applause that was half-heartedly given by the students. Before he could continue, said woman stood from her seat and made her way to the podium, gesturing for Dumbledore to sit down.

"Hem Hem," she coughed in a condescending manner. "My name is Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister…"

What followed was a long drawn out speech that very few paid attention to and were only roused from their stupors by the clapping of the headmaster.

"One final thing," the woman chimed in before the headmaster could assume control. "I would like Mr Potter to join me in my office at the conclusion of the feast," she requested in a simpering girlish tone, scanning the room for the teen.

The room began to speak in hushed whispers wondering what was going on. It was Neville who stood to address the woman as he saw the members of the staff was reluctant to.

"Harry has been missing for two months, you should know that," he said irritably, not quite believing the woman was a stupid as she was coming across.

"We at the ministry believe that is a lie," she said, shooting a glance at Dumbledore. "However, if Mr Potter is not here then he is playing truant and will be taken into ministry care at the earliest opportunity," she concluded before stepping off the stage and leaving the hall amongst a myriad of hushed whispers.

"Prefects, please escort the members of your house to the dormitories," Dumbledore requested, every hint of his twinkle missing, an unusually sombre demeanour in its place.

All the students made their way to their common rooms in silence, some confused and some thoughtful. Draco Malfoy was experiencing the former. He had no reason not to believe his father when he told them that Potter had been killed by the Dark Lord but why was the ministry insisting he was alive? He shook his head knowing that his father wouldn't say it if he didn't know for sure and he knew that most of the ministry workers were buffoons. Even Fudge himself would be nothing without his father and the money he generously donated. Potter was dead, he had to be. Being missing for two months in the wizarding world without training was a death sentence.

He made his way to his dorm lost in thoughts and decided that it was not his problem. He had more important things to worry about like how he could use his newfound power to get what he wanted.

The members of Gryffindor House were solemn. Ron and Hermione were questioned incessantly about the whereabouts of Harry but they told all the members of the house that they knew nothing and had not heard from him.

Neville Longbottom looked at his fellow housemates in sorrow. Only last year they had turned their back on the missing teen and now they decided to be concerned for his welfare. He pitied them all but kept his mouth shut as he promised Harry he would.

He went silently to his bed and allowed the rest of the house to wallow in their own emotions. He knew that Harry was okay and to him, that was all that mattered until Harry decided when to make an appearance. He looked forward to that day knowing that things would be very different.

_(BREAK)_

The last month for Harry had been a string of repetitive days. He would wake in the morning, eat, and train both magically and physically throughout the day. The regime he had been following had benefited even more than he could imagine. He felt strong and healthy and looked to be in the best condition he ever had. He no longer appeared pale nor malnourished and had grown a further two inches in height. He had even filled out considerably and had to replace his wardrobe entirely. His skill with a wand was coming on in leaps and bounds and his movement was both becoming exceptionally fast and graceful. He was happy with his progress but was under no illusion that he needed to keep at it; he still had a lot more work to do.

After writing to Neville he had received only one other piece of mail and that had come courtesy of the goblins that had sent him a magical sphere to record the parseltongue prompts so they could access the carcass in the chamber. They had written to Dumbledore and he had agreed to allow them access to the school to retrieve the corpse hoping that the wealth it would provide to Harry would help him in his endeavours. The old man had respected what he assumed was the teens wish to be left alone but passed on his greetings and offered help if he needed it.

Harry was grateful to Dumbledore but Arcturus was clearly not fond of the man for reasons of his own.

When his training came to an end for the day and he had shared dinner with the older man, he would spend several hours in the evening on magical theory and learning the syllabus for the last few years of school and even studying beyond it the way that he knew his family had. He found that in the peace and quiet of his room he could excel at his subjects but again felt disappointed in his less than impressive first few years at Hogwarts.

On the night he saw the files belonging to both his parents and grandparents, he had vowed to do better academically and he was well on his way to living up to them the way he desired.

Today felt strange to Harry knowing that he should be on the express and returning to school but in a way, he was glad that he wasn't. He had settled into his routine and knew that he was benefitting much more being here than he would at school. He did miss his friends but he no longer missed them the way he had. He didn't hold anything against them for not writing and felt no dislike towards them but he did feel let down by the apparent lack of care they had shown. It was not something he dwelled on much; he simply didn't have the time.

He was busy during all waking hours and only stopped to rest during mealtimes and when he was unwinding in the evening before he slept. No, Harry was not bitter but he was indifferent.

Arcturus had maintained his usual routine of being absent during the day and Harry had long since stopped wondering where it was he went. Harry knew he was busy taking care of the Horcruxes and knew better than to question the man. He would ask for help if wanted or needed it and Harry found that he truly did trust him. He would return at random times and test Harry in all aspects of his training and studying, offering pointers and advice where he felt necessary. He did not however baby the boy in any way and largely left him alone to be responsible for his own training and studies. He knew that seeing the files had lit a fire under the teen and had made him much more studious, which he was pleased to see.

The last few days however, had been a concern for Harry.

It began when he had started feeling lethargic and a little weak. His physical workout had left him drained and his magic had been erratic at best during his spell work. Initially he had concluded he was having an off day and simply shrugged it off. It wasn't until the next day that he felt something wasn't right when he barely made it halfway through his exercises before he had to rest and even after that his energy levels did not replete.

It was today that he had woken to find that even walking to the drawing room for breakfast had him sweating and gasping for air and he knew that something must be truly wrong. Not wanting to burden Arcturus with his problems, he sat at the table and began to slowly eat what he could, and that wasn't much.

The older man eyed the boy critically as he entered the room. He looked peaky and quite sickly. He continued to watch him as he ate a very meagre amount compared to what he usually would. He took in the symptoms he could see and come to only two possible conclusions.

"Are you sick?" he asked the boy who jumped at the sudden interruption to his meal.

"I'm just feeling a little run down," Harry said dismissively.

Arcturus frowned at the boy knowing he wasn't being entirely truthful.

"Have you been vomiting?" he asked.

Harry shook his head.

"No, I don't feel sick everything is just tiring and my magic is a little off, maybe I'm training too much," he tried hopefully.

The older man was sceptical of the boys' theory knowing that he wouldn't feel this way two months in to training, the tired phase passed weeks ago.

"What do you mean your magic is off?" he asked. "Are your spells either under or overpowered?" he questioned, frowning.

Harry nodded at the question.

"Both. The power is inconsistent and I have little control over it," he admitted.

"I see," Arcturus replied. "Do you feel too hot or too cold?"

"Neither," Harry replied confused. "I feel normal apart from tiredness and my magic acting strangely."

"Ahh," Arcturus intoned surprised. "Come here," he commanded, beckoning to the boy.

Harry complied and found himself on the receiving end of several diagnostic charms and spells he did not recognise.

"Just as I thought," the man said triumphantly. "It seems you are going through an early magical maturity."

"What's that?" Harry asked inquisitively. It was something he had never heard of.

"It's the final stage in your magical growth in which you reach your peak powers and your core finishes stabilizing," the older man answered knowledgably. "It doesn't usually happen until you are between 18 and 21 years old though," he added thoughtfully.

"Why is it happening to me now then?" Harry asked with worry evident in his voice.

Arcturus frowned whilst he considered his answer. The reasons became obvious with little thought and he looked at the boy critically again before he answered.

"Several reasons, I think. Powerful wizards tend to mature much more quickly and there is no doubt that you are more than an exceptionally powerful wizard," he pointed out. "I'm also guessing that the taint of Riddle hindered your growth considerably, both magically and physically. With that gone, you being healthy and having grown as much as you have recently, it seems that your body can now cope with the mature magic," he concluded thoughtfully. "I think Charlus went through his early. He was much like you until fifth year. When he came back, he was bigger, faster and stronger in his body and magic."

Harry thought about what he had been told but could only nod in agreement.

He had begun to believe that he was certainly no average wizard. Since the piece of Riddle had been removed everything felt much easier, even studying and absorbing information permanently was a breeze without the constant aches the scar had given him. He performed spells with ease and it just kept getting easier the more he did it.

"How long will it last?" he asked with a hint of concern.

Arcturus shrugged.

"For the average wizard it's usually over in a few days. How long have you felt like this?" he questioned the boy.

"This is the third day but the worst by far," Harry answered feeling worried again.

"It is usually longer for more powerful wizards, mine was around 5 days if I remember correctly," Arcturus explained.

Harry felt a little better knowing that but he could not ignore the exhaustion he was feeling.

"Is there anything I can do to make it easier?" he asked hopefully.

The older man shook his head.

"No, you just have to let it pass," he answered. "Just relax and sleep as much as you can and don't perform any magic or it will make it worse. Use the time for your studies and theory work and let your body run its course," he advised.

Harry nodded knowing that the older man was speaking sense. He bid him farewell and returned to his room to begin his day working on his theory.

Arcturus remained in his chair for some time pondering the boy he was sharing his house with. He couldn't help but marvel a little at the boy and the potential he possessed.

"He will do you proud old friend," he said quietly to the empty room as he put his usual disguise in place and disapparated to carry out his business for the day.

It was the next day that a surprise article appeared in the Daily Prophet. Harry was in bed feeling even worse than he had the day before to the point that even going to the bathroom took real effort.

Elgar bought him his breakfast and the paper and he gaped at the article before reading:

**Harry Potter: Dead or Alive?**

**By Marsha Wood**

**We at the Prophet have been speculating the whereabouts of our once young hero for the past two months and have yielded no results. His home address away from school is one of the best kept secrets in the wizarding world and we simply assumed that he would return to school after the summer break had finished. But that was not the case.**

**According to an anonymous source within the school, Potter did not show for the start of term and it seems that no one knows where he is. Even Albus Dumbledore appears to be in the dark or he is keeping secrets from us all.**

**So where is young Mr Potter? Has he been killed and it is being kept quiet or is he truly simply missing? We at the Prophet are keen for any information regarding the status of Mr Potter and are offering a 1000 Galleon reward to anyone who provides information that leads to Mr Potter being found.**

Harry folded up the paper and placed it on the bedside table. The article had Fudge's work all over it and Harry had no doubt that the minister was in it for his own gain. He shook his head and ate his breakfast before reading as much as he could before he would fall asleep again as he knew he would.

The following week saw the prophet speculating further on his fate. Several people had come forward claiming they had seen him, some as far away as South America.

He began to look forward to the daily paper. It entertained him to no end reading the different theories that they were coming up with. His favourite was that he had taken a holiday to a Veela conclave and had either lost track of time or had died from exhaustion.

'If only they knew the truth," he chuckled to himself.

It wasn't until the tenth day of his ordeal that he began to feel better again. It had lasted much longer than he or Arcturus had anticipated it would but he was glad that it was now coming to an end. He had achieved a large amount of academic work but he was beginning to get restless and couldn't wait until he could get back to training. He knew it would take another couple of days but he could wait.

His keenness saw him able to begin training again on the thirteenth day. He could have started a couple of days before but Arcturus insisted he waited to be sure. With his resting days over he had a lot of catching up to do.

_(BREAK)_

On the surface, the first two weeks at Hogwarts hadn't differed much to the previous years but there was a definite undercurrent of tension felt by all. The professors taught their classes as normal and the schedule within the castle was the same. It was the rumours of the return of Voldemort and the placement of Dolores Umbridge as the new defence professor that had created the atmosphere within the school.

It was clear to all in the castle that Umbridge was not there to teach anything useful to the students, she was there as Fudges' lackey and nothing more.

Her lessons were the worst any had ever attended, if they could be called lessons at all. The classes were all instructed to do the same thing regardless of age and ability. They all read from the same book and questions were simply brushed aside. She clearly favoured the pureblood students, that was undeniable but her favour was given more so to those in Slytherin house. Thus, the tension between the houses was more prevalent and became more so as each day passed.

Dolores Umbridge sat in her office contemplating her situation. She had no desire to be at Hogwarts surrounded by insolent little brats. She truly hated children, they disgusted her beyond comprehension.

However, she was if anything a very shrewd and intelligent woman. She was not particularly gifted in any branch of magic but her cunning and ability to work situations to her advantage had seen her rise to her very senior position within the ministry. She knew that being at Hogwarts was advantageous for her. From here she could glean much information and learn everything she needed to ensure her position, no matter the outcome.

She hated Dumbledore and was more than a little envious of his achievements but she was no fool. She knew there had to be some truth to what he had been saying regarding the return of the Dark Lord and decided she would take a wait and see approach. Hogwarts was perfect for that. Here, she could be away from the ministry and out of the direct line of fire that would surely be aimed there. Here she could quietly gain favour with students who she knew had family who had been aligned with the Dark Lord and here she could remain somewhat neutral. She was no Death Eater but she sympathised with much of the pureblood doctrine they spouted. She as a pureblood herself could see the benefits of the Dark Lord seizing control and implementing new laws and an infrastructure that she could truly gain from.

She may not have been a Death Eater but she did harbour her own cruel tendencies, tendencies that she could indulge in while she was at Hogwarts and none would be the wiser if she played her hand correctly. She enjoyed seeing people suffer. Not suffer in an obvious way of outright torture but a way that would see them suffer over time. Her weapon of choice was a blood quill and she knew she would get an opportunity at the school to use it.

The atmosphere within the wizarding world was enough to distract most from the tall tales told by a child. If the little brats seemed that they would talk then a memory charm would suffice, she would just need to be cautious about how much she would use the quill. It would not do to cause permanent scarring and have questions asked.

Yes Hogwarts, despite the presence of annoying children was the perfect place for her to be.

Despite the positives, the perplexing problem she was facing was what on earth had happened to the Potter boy? She had always been curious as to how a little half-blood baby could have been the cause of the fall of the Dark Lord. She was curious to meet him and not just because Cornelius wanted him found. She wanted to see for herself what was so special about him. Was he truly powerful enough to do what he had at such a young age? Or was he simply mediocre as she had heard from the Minister and Lucius Malfoy? She did not take anything Malfoy said as gospel. In all honesty, she found him to be a pompous moron who spent far too much time looking in the mirror and kissing the backside of anyone who could better his position.

To her, he was nothing more than a glorified bootlicker but he had become a powerful one and he certainly needed to be pandered to, to an extent.

The Potter mystery certainly had her flummoxed. But seeing as he didn't arrive at Hogwarts, all she could do now was to wait to see if he would emerge from the woodwork or if his corpse would appear somewhere.

She had both Granger and Weasley in her office at the earliest possible opportunity and with the help of Veritaserum and memory charms had learnt an awful lot about the young man, but they had no idea where he was or if he was definitely alive. Waiting was all she could do here and now and while she was waiting, she would have some fun for herself.

_(BREAK)_

The two weeks since the teenagers had left his home had been the most peaceful Sirius Black had had for many years. With the departure of the children the rest of the Weasley's had returned to their own home much to the pleasure of the remaining occupant of Grimmauld Place. The one problem with the peace was the new sense of worry he felt. He was aware that Harry had not returned to school and this had him concerned.

Remus had left on an errand for Dumbledore and had been gone over a week leaving the other marauder alone for much of the time.

Members of the order would stop by from time to time but Sirius suspected it was only to ensure that he had not left or done something foolish. He had been tempted but knew that it would be unwise and he wanted to be there for Harry when he came out of hiding. Sirius had no desire to go back to Azkaban and he knew he was safe behind the walls of the Black home. He spent most of his time in the library preparing for the inevitable battles that would take place. He knew he would and could be useful against the Death Eaters and pledged himself to studying and practicing. It had been a long time since his Auror days and he was certainly out of shape and not as sharp as he once was. That would have to change and while he had the time, he would hone his skills to the best of his ability.

_(BREAK)_

Harry had just completed his first day of training since his magical maturity had finished and he was quite astounded at the difference in himself. Physically, he did not tire as he had and his stamina and endurance had increased tenfold.

Regarding his magic, he was at first disappointed in the effects of his curses but soon realised that said effects were not based on power. A curse was simply a curse and would run its course regardless of power and could not be influenced by adding further magical power to it. The key difference was in the counter-cursing. It took much more power to counter the curse if more power was added to it and Harry knew this was quite a development.

The real difference he noticed was in his spells that had a physical effect. His bludgeoning hex was the first he attempted in this category and noticed the difference in power and damage immediately. Instead of the dummy that was hit gliding across the floor at high speed and hitting the wall it simply flew through the air and crashed into wall, breaking several bones.

He saw the same in his fire and water spells. Instead of a stream of reasonable force his wand would erupt in what could only be described as a geyser of his chosen element. It took some time for him to temper this effect and control the amount of force the spells were cast.

His conjuring was much easier also. He still had to visualise what he wanted to the same extent but the use of magic felt much less and did not leave him drained as it had previously.

Overall, Harry was very happy with the unexpected increases he had and believed even more so that he was no longer an average wizard. He had seen the spells performed by other wizards and witches and none he had seen even came close to what he was now capable of.

He was very aware however that power was only one aspect of being a great wizard. For the most part, it was down to skill and winning a fight was not solely dependent on the amount of power one possessed and he knew that he had to at least equal his power with the skill in which he wielded it with. He would not slack and rely on his power but he would train even harder knowing that he had quite the gap to close.

Harry was interrupted from his reflections by the arrival of Arcturus who was looking as stoic as ever. The older man looked thoughtfully at the spell damage in the room and the fresh scorch marks on the walls and floor.

"How do you feel?" he asked the teen who looked surprisingly fresh.

"I feel fine sir," Harry replied. "I don't feel tired how I usually would by now and my spells are considerably more powerful."

The older man looked appraisingly at the boy and nodded in his usual way.

"Show me," he instructed. Harry obliged by demonstrating his spell work and the more noticeable differences in it. "Impressive," Arcturus praised, "what about your curses?"

"They are much harder to counter," Harry answered frowning, "But they don't work any faster than normal, that's because they work based on time and not power."

"I see you've been reading up on your theory.".

"Yes sir, I don't want to disappoint my parents," Harry confirmed.

Arcturus nodded his head again at the boys reasoning. Inside he was pleased that he had begun to dedicate himself to his studies and knew he would do well as expected if he continued this way.

"Show me you flame whip," he requested.

This was a spell that had taken a fair amount of practice for Harry to produce and one he had not tried throughout his training that day. To his surprise he managed it with much more ease than he had anticipated and the whip was considerably longer and thicker than he had managed to conjure before.

"Good," Arcturus said simply. "You will need to practice with that to master controlling it and also work more on conjuring and banishing objects, it can be a very effective weapon if mastered."

"Yes sir," Harry answered.

"Now that is out of the way, I need you to accompany me on a small trip," Arcturus began seriously. "It seems that our friend Riddle has been recruiting and one of my elves have informed me of some new guests in our country and I want you to come and see what you will be up against in due course."

Harry knew from Arcturus tone that this was something serious and adopted the impassive mask that had been taught to him by the man. He placed his wands in his holsters and indicated that he was ready. The older man took him by the arm and with a pop they had vanished.

The duo appeared in a forest that Harry could tell was close to the sea. He could smell the salt in the air and hear the distant crashing of waves on to a rocky shore. He began casting charms on himself to hide his scent and cancel the sound of his footsteps; he didn't disillusion himself knowing that he needed to be seen by his companion. The older man nodded and cast the same spells on himself and began leading the way in to the thicker and deeper parts of the wooded area.

They walked on in silence for what seemed to be miles and eventually Harry began to hear the sounds of activity ahead of them. In the distance, he could see an area lit by fire and cautiously followed the older man to the outskirts of a clearing. What he saw in the clearing shocked him to his core.

Three men were sat in the clearing, one in which Harry recognised as Buckbeak's would be executioner, Macnair. The other two men were dressed in black robes and were sat around the fire but it wasn't the men that had Harry worried. Around the men sat a collection of around twenty giants, brutal and bigger than he could ever have imagined. He looked at Arcturus questioningly and the older man shook his head in resignation.

Things now seemed even more real to the boy. He knew now that this was a real war and it wasn't only Riddle that would be a problem. It made him wonder what else he was up to and what other creatures he had managed to bring to his side. He was distracted by the biggest of the giants as he stood and stretched tiredly. It was not the giant itself that had distracted but what was attached to his hip by a crude and blood-soaked rope. They were heads, bigger than the average human but not as big as a giant. It was then that Harry recognised them.

The faces had been quite badly mutilated but the shaggy hair and beard of one was familiar and it did not take a genius to figure out who the other had belonged to. He felt a wave of emotion overcome him; he felt sick, upset and extremely angry. He felt the magic rolling of him in waves in his fury as did Arcturus who moved in to calm down the boy.

"No," the older man whispered urgently. "All you will achieve is us being killed and it will be for nothing."

Harry swallowed back the emotion hard and nodded at the older man but felt no better. He knew war would be gruesome but he had not expected to see the head of his first ever friend worn as an accessory, as a trophy as casually as it was. He would never forget the sight of the remaining appendage of Rubeus Hagrid, gentle half-giant, adorning the hip of one of his own kin. And although he did not know Madame Maxime well, he felt a wave of sadness for her also knowing she had died trying to prevent Riddle gaining further allies.

He was shaken from his stupor by Arcturus who took him by the arm and dragged them away to a safe distance where he could apparate them home.

They appeared again in the training room where Harry immediately removed his wand and fired a blasting hex at the dummy that exploded into thousands of tiny pieces. He breathed heavily in his rage and it took some time for him to calm down to a point that he could listen to Arcturus.

"I did not know we would see that," he explained to the fuming teen. "Dumbledore had no reason to send him to them, he must have known it was useless" he finished shaking his head.

"He didn't deserve to die like that," Harry replied, attempting to keep the emotion out of his voice. "He was a good man and wouldn't harm a fly."

"Then he had no place in a war," Arcturus muttered. "He should have been smart enough to keep out of it, he was too loyal to Dumbledore and his loyalty and inability and lack of skill got him killed. You see what it is you are up against now?" he questioned not wanting an answer.

Harry said nothing but used the moment of silence to compose himself. He would make them pay for what they had done to his friend. He was both distraught and furious, each emotion fighting for dominance. But Harry would allow none to win. He schooled his features as best he could though he knew he did a poor job.

"They will pay," he vowed with a cold edge to his voice.

"You will need to know how to kill a giant," the older man sighed. "Go and read your grandfather's journal from June 1945. You will see how he used to do it."

Harry moved to exit the room feeling the need to be alone becoming overwhelming, but he was stopped before he could reach the door by the older man.

"This has happened sooner than expected but the war has still barely begun," Arcturus explained. "We still have time but we need to start putting things together. I think it is time for a family reunion both to get some allies and to rock the boat a little," he finished with a cruel smile.

Harry nodded and made his way to his room. As he closed the door behind him the first tear sprung free and he no longer tried to hold it back. He felt no shame in crying for the loss of his giant friend and would grieve in his moments alone, but he would be damned if he allowed anyone to see it. He knew being compassionate was not a weakness as such but he knew that concealing any and all emotions would be beneficial to him and had decided some time ago to hide them all. He would feel but he would not show, that was his promise to himself. When he was alone however, he would mourn the way his friend deserved.

He wept a little more for his friend before retrieving the journal he had been instructed to and quickly found what he was looking for and began to read.

_June 13th, 1945_

_I encountered and fought my first giant today and let me say that what you read and hear does no justice to them at all. They are truly a sight to behold and a fight I will never forget. They are very tough and resistant to almost all magic. The only spell that worked effectively was my flame whip but even that was not enough. To defeat a giant, you need to use physical attacks and aim for the legs and head. I wasted a lot of time trying to curse the beast and the spells did nothing. I managed to conjure and banish metal spheres to bring it to its knees after they eventually broke and sent countless arrows into its torso and head. It did not stop fighting until I removed its head by banishing a large sword I had conjured at its neck. That in itself took a lot of power and I would not recommend it unless you know you are capable as such..._

Harry now understood why Arcturus had instructed him to work on his conjuring, banishing and flame whip further. He placed the journal back in his grandfather's trunk and got into bed. He felt a sense of numbness overcome him as the death of Hagrid sunk in. He would make sure his friend did not die in vain and vowed to himself that he would do all he could to make sure he could limit the advantage the giants would have in battle even if he had to take them all down himself.

He shuddered at that thought and slowly fell into an uneasy slumber knowing that the war was beginning to shape into something that would not be easily concluded.


	6. Family Issues

**Chapter 6: Family Issues**

Halloween had come quickly for both Harry and Arcturus and the last six weeks had been busy. Something within the boy had changed since the night they had seen the giants and the change was one all too familiar for the older man; the boy was simply no longer a boy. He carried himself differently, he trained with complete abandon and though Arcturus knew he was grieving, there was no discernible sign of this. He had truly mastered hiding his emotions and the older man couldn't help but think that his long past friend had risen from the dead and was possessing the young man in front of him.

Yes, the final part of Harrys' childhood innocence was gone and he seemed to have come full circle. He had become what he needed to and the older man now believed he could not only survive, he believed he could win. Such thoughts caused him pause but he knew it was necessary if success was to be found. Neither Charlus nor Dorea would relish the existence of their only grandson and he had no doubt that both would be waiting for him on the other side. So long as he got there before Harry and Riddle with himself or preferably before, he would face them both without regret.

For Harry, the changes had come naturally. For the first time in his life he felt as though he could and was being how he was intended to be without the neglect and constant criticism he had received throughout his life. He hadn't made any conscious changes but he did notice them himself. He was no longer shy and meek. He was quietly confident and felt even more so as each day passed. The last month and a half had seen him grow in every way in leaps and bounds and he was very proud of himself.

Physically he was healthy, fit and strong. He had grown to be almost six feet tall and the training he had been doing had packed on considerable muscle mass especially when he compared himself to his previously under-nourished frame. He was a true athlete and one would only need to look into his eyes to see the differences. His eyes were no longer dull but bright, a gentle emerald flame. Now that his magic was stable and strong, his body finally reflected it and his spell work the same.

He was very fast and quite beyond the average of powerful. He moved with the same grace he had seen his grandfather move with and he worked tirelessly on his magic; creating spell chains and combinations that were devastating. He knew he was not ready to face Tom yet but, he had no doubt the man would be beyond him still. However, he knew that even now he would pose a serious threat to any of his followers and was confident he would soon be capable of defeating any of them.

He had begun training to face multiple opponents and had found his family magic was perfect for this type of fighting. He excelled in combat situations and when he watched himself back through the pensieve, he himself couldn't believe that the young man he was seeing was himself. Seeing the severed head of his friend had truly woken him to the reality of war and that reality had created what he had become. He was now a warrior and he knew that Tom Riddle would rue the day he went after the Potters. If it was the last thing he did, Harry would avenge those of his blood, those who were taken from him all too soon.

He had decided weeks before that he wanted to visit his parents and his grandparent's grave on this day. If anything, he wanted to see where they rested and pay his respects to those who he had finally gotten to know over the last several months. He wasn't seeking closure on their deaths; he knew he wouldn't get it until the day he ended Riddle.

He hadn't broached the subject with the older man yet but he knew he would not deny him. Arcturus may be abrasive most of the time but he understood the worth and value of family.

Harry made his way into the drawing room as he did every day to have his breakfast and the usual short chat with the older man. He entered the room silently, took his seat and helped himself to his oats and fruit. When the older man said nothing for a few minutes it was Harry who broke the silence.

"Where are my family buried?"

The older man did not look at all surprised by the question but looked at his younger companion critically before answering.

"They will be buried in the Potter corner of the cemetery in Godric's Hollow," Arcturus replied with a frown. "Have you never been?" he asked in a quietly dangerous voice that Harry knew meant that he was displeased.

"No sir, my aunt and uncle never took me and no one has ever told me before. All I know is that my parents were murdered on Halloween and I was taken to them," he answered with a guarded shrug.

"And you want to go?"

"Tonight," was the reply he received.

The older man looked at Harry and knew there was no stopping him even if he wanted to. He had become sure of himself and even stubborn the same way Charlus was. He shook his head at young man but nodded at his request.

"We will go later tonight but it could be risky. The ministry or Riddle could be keeping watch on the place. I will send Elgar to scout it out for the day and if necessary, we will come up with a way we can go without being bothered."

"Thank you, sir" Harry said respectfully, "I really do appreciate it".

They continued their breakfast in silence until the older man had finished. He sent Elgar to watch the graveyard before opening a missive that had been delivered to him during the meal by a rather rambunctious owl, much to the annoyance of the Black patriarch.

"Ahh the letters will be going out today so we will be having our meeting tomorrow," he announced with a steely glint in his eye.

Harry just nodded at the man. He was looking forward to seeing Sirius again but knew this was not going to be the happy reunion with his godfather he had hoped for. This was family business and Harry knew that it was going to be tense especially with the occupants not having been in a room together for many years.

He finished his breakfast and made his way to start his training for the day. He wanted the day to pass quickly as he was both eager and nervous about visiting the final resting place of his family.

The next couple of days would be interesting at the very least.

_(BREAK)_

Today found Sirius Black in a very sombre and reflective mood. Fourteen years ago to the day, his life had plummeted into the downward spiral that would haunt him for the rest of his days. He lost his best friend and his wife and because of his own actions, he had lost his godson also.

Sirius was innocent of the crimes he had been sent to Azkaban for but in his own heart, he knew he was guilty. He was guilty of recklessness that had seen his one chance at redemption be squandered by his own actions. He was guilty of abandoning the boy he loved as his own son and he was guilty of letting his friends down in the duty he had promised to them if such events were to occur. He knew he would always carry that guilt with him and wished nothing more than to be able to turn back time and change what happened that night.

Alas, he knew that was not possible. Instead he wished for one more chance to be there for Harry the way he should always have been. He wished that he could have raised him in the loving home he would have had with him. And more than anything, he wished he was with the boy right now so he could keep him safe from what he knew was coming.

The past six weeks had seen Sirius at the busiest he had ever been. He trained morning, noon and night and began taking better care of himself. He ate regular meals and would sleep soundly due to the exhaustion he would feel at the end of every day. He looked and felt healthier than he had in years. He was no longer emaciated and sallow skinned and his hair was sleek and shiny as it once was. The only thing that remained that demonstrated the hellish years in Azkaban was the haunted look in his eyes, a look that would forever prevail.

It had taken a while for him to recover, much longer than he had anticipated. He hadn't expected his magic to be so badly affected by his stay in Azkaban but it had taken several weeks for it to stabilize and be the way it once was. He had honed his skills so that he was now at least on par with what they used to be. He was a skilled wizard and was no slouch in a fight. He hadn't learnt his family magic due to its dark nature but he had learnt more than enough to take people down when he needed to. He was a Black after all.

He was currently sat at the breakfast table contemplating how he would spend his day. He didn't want to train knowing his heart really wasn't in it but he did not want to be idle either. Before he could decide, his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp tapping on the window. He frowned at the owl knowing that is was not likely to be good news. He allowed the bird access and as soon as he relieved it of its burden, it exited immediately. He recognised the wax seal of Gringotts and felt his stomach give an involuntary quiver. He knew this was not going to be good. He thought for a moment before continuing. He knew he didn't owe the bank money as he had never had a loan and lived only on his salary and the gold his uncle Alphard had left him.

He knew he wasn't due to inherit anything as he had been cast out of his family at the age of sixteen by his mother. He was at a loss and decided that opening it was his only option. What he read surprised him greatly but also made him nervous.

_Dear Mr Black,_

_I am writing to you as the Goblin in charge of the Black accounts here at Gringotts. It seems that there are many things that need to be discussed pertaining to family business and other sensitive affairs that shall not be mentioned in writing. I request an audience with yourself tomorrow at 6pm to discuss these most urgent matters. I am aware of your current status and have therefore turned this letter in to a portkey that will place you outside the designated room in which we will meet at the time mentioned above. You have a magical vow that this is no trap and you will be safe within our walls from capture._

_Yours in service,_

_Barchoke_

_Account Manage to The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black_

The letter glowed a bright blue sealing the vow and the man simply stared at the piece of parchment in shock. He did not know what to make of the letter but knew it was not wise to ignore a request for a meeting from the goblins. He would have to attend, in secret of course, but now he was truly curious. He sat back at the table and continued to ponder what business the goblins could possibly have with him.

_(BREAK)_

Andromeda Tonks arrived to work in her usual fashion. She sat her desk and looked over case notes for the coming week before fetching her morning coffee. Despite the setbacks in her life, she had become a very successful solicitor and was proud of what she achieved.

At the age of eighteen she had fled her family home when it was announced that she was to be married off to a man she had not chosen. She had already found love and had spent the last three years hiding it from her family because they would never approve of her choice in man. Her now husband Ted was a muggleborn and her being a Black meant that he would not be an acceptable choice.

She had always been proud of her heritage and proud that she had been born into a prominent family, but her pride ended at the bigotry her family was well known for. She held nothing against anyone who was not born into a wizarding family and did not buy into the pureblood supremacy that was prevalent in the wizarding community. Her husband himself had always been talented, very intelligent and he and her complimented each other well.

Their daughter had inherited talents beyond them and seemed to have taken the best of both of their genes. Not only was she powerful in her own right but she had also inherited the metamorph ability from the Black line. She was a fine auror and Andromeda was proud of her only child. Despite the happiness she felt she regretted that all but one member of her family had turned their backs on her but she remained stubborn and married Ted Tonks anyway. Her cousin Sirius was the only one who had remained in contact with her and he maintained that contact until he went to Azkaban.

Andromeda had always been unsure of her cousin's guilt. She knew that James was nothing less than a brother to him and he truly idolised Lily Potter and respected her. She had tried to visit him on several occasions just to ascertain whether he was guilty or innocent but she had been rebuffed on every attempt. She had even been unsuccessful in trying to obtain the paperwork pertaining to her cousin, being told that it was senior ministry staff and for auror access only. She had long resigned herself to the fact that she would get nowhere in her line of inquiries so she simply let it rest. To her, it would be one of those things she had no control over and one of those things that would have to remain a mystery.

She had a fairly happy childhood, made easier by her two sisters who she had adored. Her older sister Bella was beautiful, intelligent and a fierce duellist and growing up, Andromeda had always wanted to be like her. She trained with her throughout her younger years and they would gossip as all young girls would, but that changed when Bella returned to Hogwarts for her seventh year.

She had been seduced by the pureblood movement headed by You-Know-Who and had started to become what she was now known for; an insane sycophant. It had broken Andromeda's heart to see her sister take the path she had chosen and no matter how much she pleaded with her older sibling; she knew her mind had already been made up.

Her younger sister Narcissa was always the favoured and spoilt one. Being the youngest, she would always get away with everything and would charm anyone she came across. She was a talented witch in her own right but favoured potions and charms above duelling. Andromeda always believed that she would make a fine healer, but that wasn't to be.

Her father had matched her with Lucius Malfoy and any hopes and dreams the youngest Black sister had, died in their infancy. She had become nothing more than a trophy and had truly adopted the life of a Malfoy. She looked down on everyone and became a snob and an emotionless shell of what she once was.

She had spent her life wasting away in an over-sized house and only left to shop or attend events draped on the arm of her buffoon of a husband. To Andromeda, the stagnation of her sister was wasteful and the wizarding world could have benefited from a woman with her skill and the care she had once shown.

She returned to her desk to begin her workday and had barely begun to put together her most current case when she was interrupted by a gentle tapping on the window. Thinking it was a new case, she opened the window to admit the bird. It wasn't until the owl had left that she recognised the Gringotts seal. She had already received her monthly statement so was confused as to what the letter could include. She opened it and was completely taken aback by the contents.

_Dear Mrs Tonks nee Black,_

_I am writing to you as the Goblin in charge of the Black accounts here at Gringotts. It seems that there are many things that need to be discussed pertaining to family business and other sensitive affairs that shall not be mentioned in writing. I request an audience with yourself tomorrow at 6:30pm to discuss these most urgent matters. I would ask that you also bring your daughter Nymphadora Tonks and husband Theodore Tonks as the business discussed is likely to affect them also._

_Yours in service,_

_Barchoke_

_Account Manager to The Most Ancient and Noble House of Black_

The letter had Andromeda worried. Was it possible that her father had somehow created a marriage contract for her daughter without her knowledge? Or was it possible that it pertained to herself? She was no longer a Black and hadn't been for twenty-five-years. She knew it was unlikely to be anything good and could only hope that whatever it was, was not detrimental to her family.

She quickly put everything away and grabbed the letter to head home. She had to inform her family of this development and plan accordingly.

_(BREAK)_

The mood within the castle had shifted from an undertone of tension, to one of caution for many. The appointment of Umbridge had led to many strange happenings. Educational degrees had been implemented for several trivial reasons and those in the school bright enough to understand, knew it was done to control them and dampen any kind of spirit.

People would be given detention with the woman and return confused, unable to remember what they had done in the time spent with her. Hermione, not having served a detention with the woman had taken her concerns to McGonagall but had been told to keep her head down and 'let the storm pass.'

The professors were worried. The students who had attended the detentions had shown signs of having their memory modified but they knew it would be difficult to prove unless they caught the woman in the act. Their positions themselves were precarious at best and were undergoing inspections by the odious woman. They were in no position to investigate fearing for their own livelihoods. Although it was upsetting and worrying, the children did recover and there had so far been no physical evidence apparent to them. For now, they knew if they wanted to retain their positions, they had to simply wait for this to pass and hope that it would be over soon. The cardigan-clad woman had firmly pressed her will on all in castle and the days had become dark indeed under her tyranny.

Today was the day that Hermione and Ron had been planning for several weeks. They knew to pass their OWLS and to be able to defend themselves when the time was right, they needed to be taught defence properly. They had taken it upon themselves to start a group in which they and their peers could study together what they would need to pass their exams and be able hold their own in a fight.

The castle was in a much better spirit today as the students would get a respite from the rules the toad had implemented. It was the first Hogsmeade trip and the duo, along with Neville and Ginny, had chosen the occasion to hold their meeting to garner interest in their plan. They had spent the last several weeks quietly putting out word of their idea to people they knew they could trust. All in all, they were expecting around fifteen people to attend.

They were currently sat in the Hogs Head pub in the north of the village, waiting for people to arrive. They had chosen this bar hoping it was far enough away from prying ears knowing that very few people came here. They had only been sat with their drinks for around five minutes when the door opened and a group of around thirty students led by Fred, George and Lee Jordan entered the pub. There were students from all houses including a few Slytherins.

Upon seeing the group Hermione stormed towards the twins clearly panicked.

"How many people did you tell?" she hissed at them.

"Only a few," George replied, shrugging.

"It seems that your plan is much more popular than you thought it would be Miss Granger," Fred said with an impish grin. "Bar keep" he yelled, "Butterbeers all round." He requested as he took a seat with his twin/

"What the hell are the snakes doing here?" Ron questioned angrily. "You know they can't be trusted."

"Well little brother of mine", Fred intoned, wrapping an arm around his younger brother's shoulders, "It seems that Miss Greengrass here overheard us talking about it in the library and insisted that her and her two companions be allowed to join."

"Yes, she was very insistent," George cut in. "My left cheek is still ringing from that hex," he added rubbing his posterior.

"They can't be trusted," Ron reiterated angrily.

"Oh, shut up Weasley," Daphne interrupted. "If we wanted to drop you in it, it would be Umbridge here instead of us." Before Ron could reply, Hermione chimed in.

"It's okay, Ron," she said attempting to placate the irate red head. "I have Runes and Arithmancy with Daphne and Tracey. I'm sure it will be fine," she finished not sounding overly sure of herself.

"Well I don't trust them and they will drop us in it the first chance they get," Ron growled.

"Can we just get on with it," Neville piped up irritably. "It would be bad if we were caught here like this."

"Fine, fine," Hermione said and turned her attention to address the group.

"So, I was thinking that the older years could help us with our OWLS and we could all chip in on everything else," she suggested.

The students remained silent, lost in their own thoughts. They all knew what Granger had suggested made sense and that they had a much better chance of passing their exams if they worked together. It was a much better prospect than relying on Umbridge and her sorry idea of what teaching was.

"If Harry was here, I would have got him to teach us," Hermione said breaking the silence.

"Potter?" Tracey Davis broke in. "What could he teach us we don't already know? Is he even alive? Surely you know something, he is your best friend."

There was a majority agreement within the group demonstrated by rigorous nodding by many.

"Harry is by far the best at defence in our year and has actual experience," Ron answered irritably.

"What because he defeated a Dark Lord before he could hold a wand?" Astoria Greengrass asked. "It was luck, not skill."

"He didn't mean that experience," Hermione retorted angrily and quickly put her hand over her mouth once she realised her mistake. "And no, none of us have heard from him since before he went in the maze."

"Well what experience did he mean?" Daphne asked curiously.

The Weasley's and Hermione shared a look until the brown-haired girl nodded in resignation. She felt compelled to defend her friend and even though she knew it would bother him that she would explain what he had seen and done, she felt it was necessary. If only to show there was some hope in this dark time.

"Remember our first year?" she asked the group. "We were told to stay away from the third-floor corridor which we did but we found out someone was trying to steal something that was hidden there."

"What was it?" Susan Bones questioned.

"The philosopher's stone," Hermione almost whispered.

"You expect us to believe that the stone was at Hogwarts?" Marietta Edgecombe asked sceptically.

"It was," Hermione answered simply. "Professor Quirrell tried to steal it and Harry stopped him."

"You mean that stuttering moron who barely knew his arse from his elbow?" Lee Jordan asked.

"He was possessed by You-Know-Who," George answered.

Lee looked at his friend but didn't question him further. The twins had a knack for knowing almost everything about Hogwarts. The room was stunned by the proclamation and it took several moments for the silence to be broken.

"How did he stop him," Hannah Abbott asked quietly.

"We don't really know," Hermione answered. "But Harry killed him and was unconscious for almost a week after."

"That's why you all got those lastminute points," Daphne said suddenly in realisation.

"Yes, it is," Hermione confirmed.

"And there was second year," Ron pointed out.

"What, when all those students got petrified and none of us were told what happened?" a sixth year Hufflepuff asked.

Hermione just nodded her answer remembering the big yellow eyes of the basilisk.

"Someone opened the chamber of secrets and there was a basilisk inside, that's what was petrifying everyone," she explained.

"So, the chamber is real?" Daphne asked in awe.

"Yes, the entrance is in moaning Myrtle's bathroom," Hermione informed them. When no one spoke, not even to demonstrate their disbelief she continued. "You have to be a parseltongue to open it, that's how Harry got in but it wasn't him petrifying anyone it was You-Know-Who again."

"And how did he manage that? He's dead," the same Hufflepuff boy interjected.

"I don't know but he did," Hermione bit back.

"How do you know that then," the boy questioned, equally annoyed.

"Because it was me that Harry saved from there," Ginny cut in looking emotionally. "I was taken in the chamber and Harry came in and killed the basilisk."

"That basilisk must have been hundreds of years old, and huge. How did he manage that?" Tracey asked, a frown marring her features.

"With a sword. He killed it with a sword and the help of a phoenix that blinded it," Ginny answered.

"You really expect us to believe that?" the Hufflepuff huffed disbelievingly. "Pull the other one Weasley".

"He did," Ginny retorted angrily. "The snake even bit him on the arm and the phoenix healed it."

"So, that's where he got that scar," Katie Bell piped up. "I asked him about it and he went quiet, I knew he didn't have it in first year," she said triumphantly. "I thought he got it at home or something."

At the mention of Harry's home, the teens in the know shared an awkward glance.

"It wouldn't surprise me if he did," George growled angrily.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Susan Bones asked.

"Let's just say Harry doesn't have the life we all thought he did growing up," Fred said. "He was raised by his muggle relatives and they are nothing but bastards. They treated Harry like a damn elf and barely fed the poor kid, we had to rescue him half-starved after his first year."

The assembled group were shocked by what they had heard and none could find any words to say to that final piece of information. The awkward silence remained until it was broken by the pompous Hufflepuff.

"And what else has Potter done that is so great," he asked sarcastically, a little envy in his voice.

"Well you all saw him in the tournament and how well he did against seventh year students with a lot more magical education than him," Neville answered.

"And he can cast a corporeal patronus," Ron added.

"Bullshit," the Hufflepuff cut in. "Most grown wizards can't even do that."

"Harry can," Hermione said quietly. "I saw him drive away a hundred Dementors in our third year."

"Why would Potter have to do that?" Tracey asked. "Apart from that quidditch match, they stayed away."

"They did, but they tried to attack Harry and his godfather at the end of the year and he drove them away," Hermione returned coyly.

"Hold on., If Potter has a godfather then why does he live with those horrible muggles?" Susan asked.

Hermione and the Weasleys' shared a sheepish look knowing that this was likely to be the icing on the cake for those in attendance.

"His godfather is Sirius Black," Hermione finally revealed.

If the room had been shocked before it was nothing compared to the shock they were feeling now. Harry Potter's godfather was the infamous mass murderer? The same man that was responsible for the death of his parents?

"Why would Harry save him?" Susan asked. "He betrayed his parents, everyone knows that."

"Sirius is innocent," George cut in. "It was Peter Pettigrew who betrayed them, he's been hiding in his animagus form for years."

The room was completely silent once more so Hermione took the opportunity to move the conversation away from Sirius, not wanting any more attention on that particular subject.

"Harry is the most powerful wizard I know. He is up there with both Dumbledore and You-Know-who but he has been quashed his whole life by his relatives. That's why he is so quiet and not very confident, but believe me, he comes through every time when it counts," she assured the group. "I don't know where he is or even if he is alive, but if he is, I can promise he will do everything he can to stop him. I believe Dumbledore, he has no reason to lie to us. Why do you think the ministry has put Umbridge here and why do you think they are trying to discredit Dumbledore? It's because they are scared of the truth," She elaborated before she could be cut off. "Why do you think they want to find Harry so badly? It's because they know that he is the person everyone will look to when it all goes badly. It may have been luck when he was a baby, but he isn't a baby anymore."

"That's why we want to have this study group," Neville continued. "We need to be ready for exams and for what's out there, because right now we would last less than a minute in any duel."

"Swear on it." the Hufflepuff demanded.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked the boy confused.

"Swear on your magic that everything you have told us is true," he demanded again looking smug.

Without hesitating Hermione removed her wand, but before she could say a word she was cut off by Neville.

"You don't have to do that Hermione," he said placing his hand on her forearm.

"If it's the only way they believe me then I do," she answered sadly.

With that said she raised her wand and began to speak.

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, swear on my life and magic that everything I have said about Harry Potter in this meeting is true to the best of my knowledge, so mote it be," she intoned without hesitation, the golden glow of the vow surrounding her. The group looked at her expectantly waiting for something to happen to the girl. "_Lumos," _she incanted, lighting the tip of her wand.

The group were once again shocked. They had not expected her to comply with the request the boy had made but she had and had been found to have been honest. Magical vows could be dangerous things for those taking them if magic deemed them a liar. Even the Wizengamot were wary of their use. The shocked students would leave today with a very different opinion of Harry Potter and what they thought they knew of the boy. Many realised that they in fact never knew a thing about him. Despite sharing a school with him for four years he had always been quiet and reserved and always kept his circle of friends small.

A seed of hope had been planted within many and all they could do was wait it out and hope that Potter would be coming back, that he could once again do what he had as a baby but this time with a more permanent conclusion.

"We have a piece of parchment for everyone to sign, so sign it and pass it along," Hermione instructed, handing the parchment to Fred. "I promise I will keep it safe and we will let you know when the first official meeting will be and where it is once we find a suitable place."

The students signed the parchment with little hesitation and as soon as it made its way back to Hermione, they began to disperse. After the group had left Hermione sunk into her seat exhausted.

"That went well," Neville said.

"It did," Hermione agreed. "I just wish we didn't have to explain so much about Harry" she added guiltily.

"He will understand," Neville replied placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "If you hadn't, they would have left and we would have been back to where we were."

"I know but I still feel bad for breaking his confidence. I hope he forgives me" she said almost to herself.

"I'm sure he will," Neville answered. "Now can we please get out of here? This place is even creepier than the shrieking shack."

With a chorus of laughter, the remaining students exited the bar to enjoy what was left of their time away from the castle. At the end of the day, they would be going back but they knew they had achieved something today and felt much better for it.

_(BREAK)_

Harry had just finished his training day and was getting ready for his shower. He was both nervous and excited in his anticipation at finally getting to visit where his family were put to rest. He usually spent Halloween in quite the melancholic mood but today was different, today he would get to pay his respects. He wasn't the same as he had been in previous years, in fact his mood was one of determination. He felt more determined today than ever to give his family the over-due justice they deserved.

He finished showering and took his time getting dressed. He had chosen to wear a buttoned khaki green shirt, jeans and black boots. He didn't want it to be a formal affair, the thought of his father laughing at him suited and booted did not appeal to him.

He caught sight of himself in the mirror and realised he needed to at the very least tidy up the facial hair that had quickly began to grow. He found that he liked it and that it made him look less child-like, more distinguished. He wore it as short stubble that blended to sides of his hair that he kept equally short. He kept his hair longer on top but just enough that he could control it with a simple messy style. He had found a useful barbering spell in one of his grandfathers' journals, and with a little practice, he found that he was quite adept with it.

He made his way to the drawing room where Arcturus was waiting for him so they could eat before they would make their way to Godric's Hollow. He entered the room and took his seat only to be frozen in place by a critical stare from the older man.

"Go and change into a suit," he commanded simply. Harry was about to protest but was cut off by the older man before any words could form on his lips. "It doesn't have to be a formal thing but you will dress the part. Charlus would hex you something silly if he was here and you went to visit their graves for the first time dressed like that."

Harry swallowed and nodded before exiting. He was back in the room ten minutes later wearing a navy-blue ensemble with a plain white shirt and charcoal tie with a matching pea-coat. He waited for the nod of approval from Arcturus before he took his seat.

"We need to talk about tomorrow," the older man declared. "The letters were sent today and the meeting will take place in the evening,"

"Okay," Harry said confused. It wasn't like Arcturus to divulge details of his business with the teen.

"I want you to be there, but I have two conditions," he said noting the surprise on the teen's face.

Harry just nodded in acknowledgement.

"Firstly," the older man began holding up a finger. "You will wear you cloak and only show yourself if I give you my permission, understood?" he asked with a stern tone.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied a little sadly knowing he would be in the same room as his godfather and may not be able to speak to him.

"And secondly," Arcturus continued, "you stay hidden no matter what happens. This is family business and there's a chance it will become unpleasant but unless I give you my express permission, you are to allow what will be to happen, do you understand?"

"I do, sir," Harry answered sincerely. He understood the importance of family business and knew any interference from him would incur quite the wrath of the oldest Black.

"Good," the older man replied, relaxing once again. "I think it is a good time to leave, Elgar reported no unusual people around the graveyard so it should hopefully go off without a hitch," he finished, grabbing Harry by the arm.

They appeared on a quiet street in a village where a few Victorian style houses were dotted either side of the road. A church could be seen at the end of the road and Harry immediately understood why his parents would choose to live here. It was simply beautiful. There was a variety trees and lush green hills could be seen on the horizon. There was a smell of fresh pine and the air was thick and intoxicating.

The duo made their way in a casual pace towards the church where Harry knew the graveyard would be. Both were alert to their surroundings as had become their custom but they knew there was no threat. Harry could scarcely believe a tragedy such as the one fourteen years ago could ever take place here. He felt a sense of familiarity with the village and he felt something inside him recognising it as home.

They reached the entrance to the graveyard and passed through the kissing-gate that led on to a gently winding path that would take them through the entirety of the cemetery if they cared to follow it. It was Charlus that led Harry to where the Potters were buried. Harry hesitated and found the hand of the older man on his shoulder. He looked up to see the usual stoic expression that he could see was forced a little.

"You take as long as you need," the older man said sincerely before walking away a respectable distance to allow the boy some much needed privacy.

The first grave he came to was that belonging to his grandmother. The tombstone was made of black granite adorned with the Potter crest and a beautiful gold cursive inscription;

_Dorea Constance Potter_

_Proud Wife, Mother, Grandmother, Healer_

_Born 4/6/1925_

_Died 12/10/1980_

_Honour Thy Blood_

Harry knelt beside the stone and placed a hand upon it and took a little time to simply absorb the moment.

"I'm sorry that we didn't get much time together, but from what I know, you would have been an amazing grandmother," he said quietly. "Your brother has told me all about you. How caring and kind you were and how you would kick my grandfather's arse when he needed it," he added with a watery chuckle.

He became thoughtful in silence, thinking of what he knew about her from what he had been told and what he had seen in the pensieve.

"If I can find someone who is half the woman you are when this is all over, I know I will have done very well for myself," he whispered placing a kiss on the granite before standing. He removed his wand and conjured a bouquet of red roses, placing it in front of her tombstone before stepping back. He moved to his left and came to the grave that was the final resting place of his grandfather. It looked very much the same as his grandmothers. It was the same black granite and gold lettering;

_Baron Charlus Henry Potter_

_Loving Husband, Father, Grandfather, Warrior_

_Protector of our lands and people_

_Born 23/7/1924_

_Died 15/2/1981_

_Honour Thy Blood_

Harry placed his hand on the granite as he had with his grandmother but remained on his feet. He became lost in his thoughts of how much the man had become an influence on him over the past months. He swallowed deeply before speaking, knowing he had to be strong.

"You've made me proud of who I am and where I come from," he began. "I will carry the Potter name with pride and do everything in my power to be worthy of it. Even in death you have taught me more than I can ever thank you for and I cannot put into words how grateful I am. You have given me the chance to avenge my parents and make that bastard pay for what he did to you all, and he will pay. If it takes my dying breath to finish him, I promise you that I will. Look after them all where you are now as you did in life and there will be a day when I will join you, hopefully a long time from now," he finished.

He again removed his wand but this time conjured a marble figurine of a Thestral and placed it on top of the tombstone, securing it with a permanent sticking charm. "I doubt very much that you would like flowers" he laughed. "But I know how much you loved her," he said gesturing to the grave of his grandmother. "I think this is much more fitting."

Moving along, he came to the grave of his father and stared at it feeling very confused, a confusion which quickly turned to anger. The tombstone was a plain white stone with black writing. The Potter crest had been included but the grave certainly did not represent James Potter.

_James Charlus Potter_

_Father to Our Saviour_

_Harry James Potter_

_Born 11/4/1960_

_Died 31/10/1981_

_We thank you for your sacrifice_

Harry shook his head in frustration and looked towards his mother's plot that was next to his father's. It was fashioned in the same stone and writing as his father's but there was no Potter crest.

_Lily Potter_

_Mother to Our Saviour_

_Harry James Potter_

_Born 12/2/1960_

_Died 31/10/1981_

_We thank you for your sacrifice_

Harry began to shake in rage at the disrespect shown to the memories of his parents. There was much more to them than being just his parents but that was in no way reflected where they rested. Arcturus, feeling the fury emanating from the boy, walked to his side and upon seeing the graves he understood the anger Harry was feeling.

"Clearly the ministry took the liberty of burying your parents," he deduced disgustedly.

Harry took a deep breath to calm himself before aiming his wand at his father's tombstone, a deep look of concentration coming over him and the stone started to transform. When he was finished Arcturus looked impressed at what he had achieved.

"You've been studying," he noticed with a little pride in his voice.

"Yes, sir," Harry affirmed, not taking his eyes off his work. He even had to admit himself that he was proud of the complex transfiguration he had just demonstrated.

The stone had been transfigured into granite and the writing had changed and was gold, reflecting the style of his grandparents. The reference to himself had been removed and it now stood a true and proud representation of what he knew of his father;

_James Charlus Potter_

_Husband, Father, Marauder_

_May Prongs Run Free_

_Born 11/4/1960_

_Died 31/10/1981_

_Honour Thy Blood_

_Mischief Managed_

"I won't even ask," Arcturus said shaking his head stepping away once again.

"It's strange," Harry began. "I know more about my grandparents than I do about you and you're my father. I know we would have had a lot of fun from what Sirius has told me and probably driven mum insane. You were taken too soon, before either of us had the chance."

He took a moment to compose himself before he continued talking.

"Thank you for protecting mum and me as best as you could. I will get the rat for what he did to us. He will get exactly what he deserves," he vowed. I love you, Dad and I will see you all again."

He concluded his time with his father by conjuring two marble figurines; one of a large shaggy dog and one of a werewolf that he secured atop the tombstone. To add to that, he conjured a single white lily and placed it between the two before turning his attention to the grave of his mother. He looked at it distastefully and quickly went to work transfiguring it in a more suitable monument to his mother. When he was finished it reflected the other three and the Potter crest adorned it proudly.

_Lily Potter_

_Loving Mother and Wife_

_Undoubtedly the Brightest Witch of Her Age_

_Born 12/2/1960_

_Died 31/10/1981_

_Honour Thy Blood_

"I've spent my whole life wishing you were here and being tormented by your final moments," he said sadly. "Hearing your voice after what happened in June has taken most of that away. I'm not going to apologise for all the things I will have to do because I know you understand and will forgive me."

Unwittingly, a tear broke free and he made no attempt to wipe it away.

"There's still not a day that goes by where I wouldn't give everything I own just to have you back for a minute. I love you mum, and thank you for what you did for me, I promise I won't let it be in vain."

He conjured a marble figure of a stag and one of a lily before fixing them to the stone. He took one last look at the area in which his family had been laid to rest and made his way to Arcturus who nodded before making his own way to the graves. When he had finished having his private moments, he conjured 4 black roses and placed one on each tombstone. Harry was touched by the sentiment of the older man but knew he wouldn't appreciate him vocalising it. Instead he gave him a grateful nod as he returned. The older man returned the nod before disapparating with a soft pop.

Harry took one last look around him and one final glance at the graves of his family.

"I'll be back soon," he whispered quietly before he too left, his own words echoing in his ears.

He appeared in the drawing in room but did not take a seat, he felt the need to be alone and reflect on the past hour of his life. To him, it was one of those defining moments in a lifetime and he knew now that he would never be the same. His determination had become even more firm despite the fact he felt that that had not been possible.

"Thank you, sir," he said gratefully.

He exited and made his way to his room knowing he wouldn't sleep any time soon. But instead of working, he laid awake for hours just thinking of his family and truly taking in the experience of the night. It had been bittersweet but he knew it could not have been any other way.

He eventually fell into an easy sleep that night, the best sleep he had ever had in his short fifteen years of life.

_(BREAK)_

Andromeda Tonks was not looking forward to the meeting she had been requested to attend with her husband and daughter. The Tonks family had spent the entirety of the previous day discussing all possibilities and outcomes and had put in place a contingency plan for if they needed to flee. They were all hoping that whatever the issue was that it could be dealt with in a way that their lives wouldn't have to change.

Ted Tonks was the most nervous of the trio. He had never had anything to do with the Black's, being a muggleborn, he simply would not have been worthy of their time. He was aware of their reputation of course and always wondered if his wife had truly come from the family.

There was no doubt of course that she had.

It wasn't only the uncanny resemblance to her sister that confirmed it but he had seen and been on the receiving end of her temper. If truth be told, he was terrified of his wife when she was angry. She was very powerful and the fact that she was a Black could not be ignored in her moments of fury.

These moments were very rare, however. She was a very loving and caring woman but would defend himself and their daughter to the very end if necessary. This thought made the impending meeting rest a little easier with the man. It wasn't that he feared the Blacks, he was a very capable wizard in his own right, but he feared what this meeting would mean for his family. All he could do was wait and see and just hope that whatever happened, they could handle between them.

Nymphadora Tonks was feeling confused more than any other emotion. She had never been exposed to her mother's family so didn't truly understand the severity of the situation. The Black family had essentially been non-existent throughout her life and she only remembered Sirius from when she was a child and he was always nice.

Whatever would happen she would not allow anyone to take control of her life in any way. She would do as her mother did and flee if necessary before that would happen. Although she was confident that whatever it was could be fixed, she couldn't help the twinge of nervousness that would appear every so often at the thought of the meeting.

_(BREAK)_

Sirius woke the next morning, nothing less than a bag of nerves, wondering what the day to come would entail. He knew that things were going to be different after today one way or the other but he couldn't decide if that would be a good thing or not. On the one hand he was safe where he was and how things were. He was out of the direct line of fire and he knew there was no one who could get into his house without his say so; his family had at least done a good job warding Grimmauld Place and for that, he was grateful.

On the other hand, he felt that he was merely sat on the side lines just waiting and watching as things progressed around him. Sirius was a man of action and would much rather be in the thick of it than sat doing what he deemed as nothing.

Yes, he knew that things would be changing for better or worse and all he could do was wait and see what the outcome of the day would be and hope that the changes would be positive for him.

He spent his day pacing and watching the clock, urging the time to either pass quickly in his braver moments or begging it to slow when the nerves got the better of him. Before he could decide completely on how he wanted the time to pass, it was time to activate the portkey to the bank. It would be left to whatever deity was watching over him to decide his fate, a notion that did not sit well with the man.

_(BREAK)_

Harry and Arcturus were in the meeting room at Gringotts, waiting for their guests to arrive. Harry, as promised, was sat in the corner of the room concealed by his invisibility cloak and despite the fact he knew he would not be able to talk to Sirius unless the older man said, it was okay, he was excited at the prospect of just seeing his godfather.

Arcturus was sat at the head of the large oak table that had been provided for the gathering and Barchoke was stood at the door, waiting to greet the Black family members as they arrived. The two had had a conversation in which the goblin was told to not involve himself and allow what was to happen take place as Harry had been instructed. The goblin readily agreed, not wanting to be included in the meeting, knowing the reputation of the family.

Not long had passed when they heard the arrival of a portkey outside the door and all the occupants of the room knew who it was. At the tentative knock of the door, the goblin opened it to greet Sirius.

"Mr Black, please come in and take a seat", the goblin requested in his business tone.

"Thank you Ba…" Sirius froze at the sight of his long thought to be dead grandfather and paled considerably. He seemed to find himself quickly though and yelped in shock before turning to sprint out of the still open door he had just come through.

"Get your worthless hide back here, you mangy cur," Arcturus roared hurling a stinging hex at his retreating grandson's rear end. Harry heard his godfather yelp as the spell hit its mark followed by a thud as the man hit the floor. He couldn't help himself and had to stifle a snigger as the man reappeared rubbing his behind and gaping like a fish out of water.

"Will you stop stuttering? You look even more of a moron," the older man demanded exasperatedly.

"But you're dead," Sirius said dumbly, pointing at his grandfather with a disbelieving, shaky finger.

"The fuck I am," Arcturus replied clearly irritated. "I'm sat right here and even a buffoon like you can see that. Now sit down for fuck sake before I flay you alive you simpleton."

The younger man complied knowing that it was not an empty threat. He sat staring at his grandfather dumbly and realised that this was going to be much worse than he anticipated.

"Are you going to hand me over to him?" Sirius finally managed to ask, discreetly withdrawing his wand from his sleeve under the table.

"If I wanted you dead, I'd do it myself. I don't need the help of a half-blooded bastard to help md with that," Arcturus spat. "And I'd put that wand back where you took it from before you find it rammed up your arse."

Sirius just swallowed deeply, partly out of relief and partly from the nervousness that had settled in. It was then he that he realised what the older man had said and found himself confused.

"What do you mean half-blooded bastard?" he asked.

"Ahh so Dumbledore is still his secretive self I see and hasn't seen fit to tell you what you're up against. That's another moron I'll be having a conversation with," he said quietly to himself.

"What are you talking about?" Sirius asked, getting annoyed.

"We will get to the how's and why's later. We have things to discuss before everyone else arrives, and use that tone with me again you filthy mutt and I'll make sure you're neutered in both forms, understand?"

Sirius looked shocked and began jabbering again. He finally managed to speak but his voice had climbed an octave or two higher.

"You know?"

"Of course, I know, you always smelt like dog. Either that or you have disgusting inclinations towards them. Is that what it is? You like to lay with animals?" he questioned. "Then again going by some of the witches you've been known to cavort with it wouldn't surprise me."

Sirius yelped in indignation and began sputtering incoherently. Before he could formulate words again Arcturus cut him off.

"We will get to your love life a little later," he said seriously. "But now we have other things to discuss".

With a speed the younger man wasn't expecting, Arcturus had him by the throat and had slammed his head on the table. Upon seeing this Harry had to fight the urge to intervene. What had seemed initially amusing to him was now becoming clear that this situation was anything but.

Arcturus looked into the fear filled eyes of his grandson before he began to question him. He just hoped that he was not about to be lied to. The younger man would do well to be honest, the consequences would not be pleasant.

"Did you do it?" he hissed at his grandson. "Did you sell out the Potter's to that bastard?"

It wasn't the fact that he believed Sirius to be guilty but he wanted to hear it from the man himself. He wanted to look him in the eyes and see the truth there. Arcturus was not a man who would listen to rumours or the testimony of others, he had to be sure for himself.

Sirius was furious at the question. His grandfather knew how close he was to James and Lily and knew that he would not have done it.

"I would have died first," he spat.

Arcturus knew the boy was telling the truth and simply nodded. Seeing the anger in his eyes gave him hope that he had found a true ally for the Potter boy, hell, he couldn't fight this war alone.

"Good," the older man said releasing his grandson and returning to his seat. He watched Sirius rubbing his neck and gave him a moment to compose himself before he continued. "Apart from myself, you are the last remaining Black male, and when I die you will take over the family. "What do you plan on doing to continue the family line?"

Sirius looked more than a little embarrassed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously, clearly unwilling to answer. Eventually he blew out a long breath and hung his head in what seemed to be shame.

"Twelve years in Azkaban takes away certain capabilities," he explained quietly. "The wand can fire spells but there's no magic in them."

Arcturus had suspected as much but did not want to discuss the potency of his grandson's seed with him.

"You have a contingency plan I assume?"

"I made a will fifteen years ago that leaves everything I own to my godson," he answered, expecting to be reprimanded again. "And I'd sooner see our family end and our fortune become nothing than hand it over to the Malfoys.'"

Harry was surprised by the fact Sirius had left him everything and felt like he mattered to someone for the first time in his life. It wasn't the possessions that made him grateful but the sentiment the man had shown. He couldn't believe that he would mean so much to the man.

Arcturus just nodded at the answer his grandson had given him. He couldn't agree more with the man but was certainly not going to let him know that.

Before he could question him further, he was interrupted by the man himself.

"Why are you back now? Why would you want everyone to think you were dead?" Sirius asked sincerely.

Arcturus narrowed his eyes at the man and shook his head. "A few months before the Dark Lord fell your brother came to see me."

At the mention of his brother Sirius shot to his feet shaking instantly in rage.

"That bastard was a Death Eater" he growled furiously.

"Your brother has done more to end this fucking war than anyone. If it wasn't for him, the wizarding world would be fucked. Barchoke, can I use your pensieve?" he asked the goblin knowing his grandson would not believe him until he saw for the memory for himself.

"Of course, Baron Black," the goblin agreed and summoned the stone bowl to place on the table. Arcturus carefully withdrew the memory he wanted and placed it in the bowl and gestured for his grandson to enter.

It was a few minutes later that Sirius emerged looking both pale and emotional as he fell into his seat in a stupor.

"He turned against him," he stated lamely.

"He did," the older man confirmed.

Sirius frowned and looked towards his grandfather. He could not understand why he was being the way he was and why any of this mattered to the man. "Why do you care?" he asked not taking his eyes off him.

Arcturus was not surprised by the question and had expected it. He thought before he answered but would not hide the truth from the boy, he was family after all, something the older man had little left of. "The first and second war tore my family, our family, to pieces. Our family will not survive another war unless we come together. I've spent my whole life trying to rebuild it and before this bastard came along the first time, we were doing well."

He paused before he continued.

"Not only that, he killed my best friend," he said sadly. "No not my friend," he added shaking his head, "My brother."

"Uncle Charlus," Sirius said quietly, "but why come back now?"

"I haven't been sat on my thumb these last fourteen years," Arcturus grumbled irritably. "You saw the memory and what he mentioned."

"Horcruxes? What the hell are they?" Sirius asked.

"It doesn't matter, I am dealing with them," the older man explained cutting Sirius off. "Just leave it to me."

"So, you're on Dumbledore's side?" Sirius choked in realisation, pointing at the older man in amusement.

"I am on my side," Arcturus corrected. "Dumbledore is too soft to lead anyone in a war. How can you follow someone who would have you stun your enemies and lock them up only for them to be released again? Dumbledore will get us all killed and condemn me for fighting the way a war is supposed to be fought."

"But Dumbledore killed Grindelwald," Sirius pointed out.

"No," Arcturus interrupted. "Grindelwald killed himself, he was hit by his own spell and even I'm sure that Dumbledore did that by accident."

Sirius just sat listening to what his grandfather had said and knew it was true. Dumbledore would insist on non-lethal spells that the Death Eaters certainly would not be using. Before the conversation could go any further there was another knock on the door and the two men took their seats and waited for their guests to be admitted.

Sirius was confused but figured that the people who would be attending could only be members of the Black family. He was surprised however to see the Tonks family enter the room, having expected it to be one of his distant aunts.

"Oh, shit," Andromeda cried when she caught sight of her grandfather. She then looked questioningly at Sirius who shook his head and shrugged. The youngest member of the Tonks family was simply confused at the fear she could see in her mother's eyes and even more confused at the presence of her cousin.

"Sirius, Dumbledore is going to go spare when he finds out you left the house," she hissed urgently.

"Dumbledore can get fucked," Arcturus cut in. "Now take a seat."

All three Tonks' complied, Andromeda knowing that her grandfather was not to be disobeyed and the other two simply following her lead.

"Andromeda," the older man began. "It has been a while."

"Twenty-five years," the woman confirmed, anger evident in her voice. "Twenty-five years ago, I was cast out because I refused to marry Evan Rosier."

"Cast out?" Arcturus asked sarcastically. "You left of your own accord."

Andromeda just stared at her grandfather in confusion but couldn't find a point to argue. She had left of her own free will but knew she would no longer be welcome or even considered a Black because of her choice of Husband. Before she could make her point, the older man cut in again.

"You were never cast out Andromeda. Your father never had the authority and when he came to me to have you removed, I refused him. The same with your hag of a mother," he added, looking at Sirius.

The two could only stare at the older man in shock. They had never officially been cast out of the family. Neither could find the words to express what they felt; confusion, anger and annoyance mostly. They were saved the effort by Arcturus addressing Ted.

"You must be Theodore," he acknowledged the man distastefully.

"Yes, sir" Ted answered nervously.

"To you it is either Lord Black, or Baron Black, understood?" he asked, glaring at the man.

Ted swallowed deeply but nodded.

"Yes, Lord Black" he managed to stammer.

Nymphadora Tonks was confused as to why her mother would allow this man to talk to her father this way. She was angry and was about to give the man a piece of her mind when she was cut off by her mother.

"Be quiet, Nymphadora," she advised quietly, shaking her head vigorously.

"Ahh and you must be the daughter," Arcturus continued, turning his attention to the young woman and taking in her appearance. "An auror and metamorph. A talent inherited from the Black line."

The auror just nodded at the older man's observation.

"Why is it that you use the gift so liberally?" he asked. "It would be much smarter for you to choose one form for day to day use and only use the gift when you need it and not in such a fashion," he suggested, gesturing to her blue hair and ample bosom.

"I like to be different and change things," she answered, shrugging.

"No," the older man said shaking his head, "you like to stand out the way you do because you think it gives you your own identity. You think that someone would only want you for your ability to change your body and you've accepted that. Have some self-respect for fuck sake and stop trying to please people who don't matter, because I know you look nothing like this in your natural state," he finished gesturing to the woman who was looking shocked and upset at how accurate this stranger was.

"Why are we here?" Andromeda cut in noting how uncomfortable her daughter was becoming.

"We are here because we are the last of the Blacks and we have to discuss how we plan on surviving the coming war," Arcturus answered, taking his seat once again. "In the past I have allowed the family to have too much freedom and free reign on what they do but that stops now."

"I will not become one of that mad bastards' followers," the youngest Tonks growled.

"Good," the older man said surprising the trio. "Let me explain why I am here and what I have been doing these last fourteen years."

He went on to explain the decimation of the Black family because of the rises of both Grindelwald and Voldemort. He explained that Regulus had come to him and gave him certain information and that he had turned on his master. He did not mention the horcruxes as he had to Sirius not wanting anymore people to know. He explained how much he knew the wizarding world would change and how being a Black would become meaningless if the remaining family members survived, something he did not want to see happen after all of his hard work to re-establish the name as something significant.

When he was finished, the trio were both shocked and flabbergasted. But they were not able to question the man further as there was another knock on the door that had the four guests looking confused and tense. When the door opened and Narcissa Malfoy entered the atmosphere became very tense. Even Harry felt himself stiffen at her presence not being aware that she would be here.

The first thing Narcissa saw was four wands pointed at her, but before she could reach for her own, she caught sight of her Grandfather and paled from shock but mostly fear. This was not good for her at all.

"Sit down, Narcissa," the older man commanded in a sour tone.

Narcissa flattened her robes and took a seat next to the man alone on one side of the table who she then realised was her cousin Sirius. She quickly hid her surprise behind an impassive mask before addressing him.

"Cousin Sirius," she greeted him formally. "You are looking well for a man on the run."

"Narcissa," Sirius intoned, sounding bored. "You look thin and quite unwell," he said lazily and uninterested.

Narcissa chose not to dignify her cousin with a response but instead turned her attention to the other three people sat on the opposite side of the table. This time she could not conceal her surprise so well.

"Andi," she greeted inclining her head towards her older sister. "It's been a while."

"Cissy," Andromeda replied using her childhood nickname for her sister.

Narcissa chose to ignore the other two members of the Tonks family and instead addressed her Grandfather. "Why were Lucius and Draco not invited? Surely if they," she said distastefully indicating the Tonks family, "are here, then my son and husband should be also."

"Your son and husband could not be any less of a Black if they tried," Arcturus replied sourly.

"My husband is a good man," she retorted "And Draco will one day be the head of this family."

"Your husband is a moron and your son is exactly the same," Arcturus answered angrily. "And I will be damned if I let the head of this family be a Malfoy."

Before Narcissa could reply she was cut off by her Grandfather.

"Lucius is nothing but a brown-nosing piss stain who should never have been allowed to marry into our family. He is not worthy and the offspring you have brought into this world is not worthy of such a title, I would sooner see everything we own burnt to the ground before it goes to those fucking imbeciles."

Narcissa was shocked into silence. She had not expected this nor had she expected to hear her family spoken of in such a way. She knew things were not going to end well for her here but remained quiet and waited to see how this would play out.

"Before we continue," Arcturus interrupted her thoughts, "you will all give a magical oath on both your life and magic that nothing you have seen or heard or will see and hear will be spoken of to anyone not in this room without express permission," he instructed.

"And if we refuse?" Narcissa asked panicked and angry.

"Then I will obliviate you until you are nothing more than a dribbling mess," he answered sincerely. "That includes revealing in any way that I am alive."

All of the occupants of the table shared a look and Sirius was the first to give his oath followed by the two older Tonks. Nymphadora hesitated and before she could give her oath Arcturus interrupted.

"That also means you can't tell Dumbledore," he explained gravely.

Tonks just nodded before giving her oath and the group turned their attention to Narcissa who was clearly hesitant.

"Why am I here?" she asked. "All you've done is insult my family and essentially cast them out."

"You are here because you are family," Arcturus pointed out simply. "I know you are loyal to that idiot husband of yours but I am giving you the chance to put a contingency plan in place and if you decide you want out, then you will have the opportunity."

"What about Draco?" she asked in reply.

"Your son is a Malfoy and will follow his moronic father. I give it less than a year before he takes that ridiculous mark," the older man estimated confidently.

Narcissa looked upset but knew it was likely. She would not turn her back on her husband though. Despite his flaws, she loved him and her son more than anything. Reluctantly she gave the same vow that the rest of the family had given and sighed in frustration.

"I can't go against them," she warned.

"I didn't expect anything less," Arcturus replied shrugging. "But now I can rest easy knowing I gave you fair warning, the rest is in your hands."

"You mean to stand against the Dark Lord," Narcissa whispered.

"I do."

"But he will kill you all, none of you can defeat him," she pointed out.

"Then we will die trying," the younger Tonks interjected firmly.

"Then you are all fools," Narcissa muttered.

She sat for a moment and pondered the situation. There was no one alive who could stand against the Dark Lord and win. It was then she thought she realised what was happening and she couldn't hold back her laughter.

"You are siding with Dumbledore. You think he can finish the Dark Lord," she gasped disbelievingly.

Arcturus shook his head and smirked at his Granddaughter.

"Dumbledore can probably barely finish his dinner these days," he stated. "And no, I am not siding with him."

"Then who?" Narcissa asked. "There is no one else who can stand against him and win, the only other person who people foolishly believed in was the Potter boy and he's dead, Lucius saw it himself," She pointed out.

Arcturus just laughed at her confusion. He had been waiting for this moment for days now knowing it would come to this. He edged his face closer to his granddaughter and smirked again.

"Dead, is he?" he asked. "Why don't you see for yourself how very much alive he is."

All at the table turned to see Harry Potter appear at the other side of the room, but this was not a Harry that Sirius nor Narcissa remembered. He no longer looked like a meek and vulnerable young boy. The person that stood in front of them now was nothing short of being a man. He was just shy of six feet tall, athletically built with much shorter hair and stubble. He was minus his trademark glasses and scar and he was wearing a plain black t-shirt that fit him like a second skin, a pair of dark blue jeans and white tennis shoes.

Sirius stood slowly, hardly believing his eyes. He had been waiting for this moment for months and the confusion he should have been feeling was not registering. All he knew was that Harry was stood in front of him and he could now protect his godson.

Before Harry could say anything, his godfather had cleared the room in the blink of an eye and was now clinging to him and sobbing uncontrollably into his shoulder in relief. Wanting the awkward moment to end Harry pushed the man away gently before addressing.

"Not here Sirius, pull yourself together," he hissed.

The other man, not having heard what his godson had said, started to ramble which turned in to quick talking as he vocalised a plan.

"We can get you away from here and I will keep you safe, I promise We can find somewhere to sit this war out," he finished sincerely.

Harry looked at his godfather and found he appreciated what the man was trying to do but shook his head all the same.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sirius. I'm not running from him."

"But you're too young to have to do this Harry, he will kill you," Sirius pleaded.

"He might," Harry agreed. "But I'll be taking that bastard with me. No one has the right more than me."

Sirius turned to his Grandfather, his face a mask of fury.

"What the fuck have you done to him?" he growled.

"I healed him and gave him the tools. The rest is his own work," the older man shrugged with a glare.

"But he is just a boy, surely you're not serious," Andromeda cut in.

Arcturus looked annoyed but he knew he needed to make them understand why he was doing this. He looked at each person assembled and came up with an idea.

"How many of you have faced him?" he asked.

None of them apart from Harry raised their hands.

"How many times have you faced him, Potter?" he questioned.

"Four times so far," Harry answered.

"Four?" Sirius asked as the rest of the room looked confused.

"When I was a baby, first year, second year and in the graveyard," he replied clarified.

Everyone in the room looked even more confused. Arcturus just nodded and turned to address the rest of the group. "Say his name," he commanded to them all. None of them replied and they looked nervous. "Potter?"

"Voldemort," Harry said without hesitation, causing the rest of the group to flinch or shudder.

"None of you have faced him or dare even speak his name and yet you think Potter shouldn't?" he said glaring at his family.

"But he is just a boy," Andromeda reiterated.

Arcturus continued glaring at the assembled group before he nodded and proceeded with his plan. He knew it would be the only way.

"Fine," he began. "If all you see is a boy then prove it. One of you duel him, I don't care who, and if you win, I will agree with Sirius that Potter should sit the war out and you can take him wherever you want to go."

Before the group could even discuss the matter, the youngest Tonks stepped forward. "I'll do it," she declared. "I owe him one from July."

"So, you were Dumbledore's lackey who attacked me Miss Tonks?" Harry asked a little surprised. "You look better with pink hair," he added to the amusement of Sirius and the embarrassment of the auror.

"You won't be making jokes soon, Potter," she retorted angrily through gritted teeth, making her way to the other side of the room.

Arcturus looked towards the goblin who just shrugged and waved his hand, causing the table to disappear.

"All of those not taking part stand behind this line," he said as he waved his hand again and a blue line appeared.

Arcturus grabbed Harry by the arm and spoke to him quietly so no other could hear. "I meant what I said, Potter," he growled. "If you lose then you go with him" he added nodding towards Sirius. "Don't fuck around and don't hold back, show them why you're here."

Harry just nodded at the older man. He did not want to hurt the young woman but he would be damned if he would be sitting this war out. This was his proving ground and he realised he had a lot to prove to the people assembled and to himself. He steeled himself and took his place opposite the blue-haired auror.

"Begin when you're ready," Arcturus said with a shrug.

Tonks wasted no time and began to fire all kinds of spells at Potter; stunners, disarming charms and even a few bludgeoning hexes.

Harry, to the annoyance of his opponent, simply batted them away lazily as if they were nothing.

The auror growled in frustration and began firing spells that had much-less friendly intentions. She fired bonebreaker's and concussion spells with vigour and a speed that most would struggle with.

Harry avoided the spells with a greater speed and grace that none in the room thought possible and he made it look almost effortless, as though he was dancing around them. They were in awe at the fifteen-year old's ability and he had yet to even fire a spell.

Harry was becoming very annoyed. The auror was not duelling to just incapacitate him, she was duelling to cause him injury. He saw a bone breaker coming towards him but did not move or shield; he waited.

The spectators cringed at the impending impact knowing it was going to be very unpleasant. They were again surprised as the Potter simply raised his wand and the spell stopped just in front of it and formed into a ball. He then hissed at it and the spell turned from a dark blue to a bright pink, which he launched back at the woman with incredible speed and power, sending her flying and into the wall, knocking her unconscious.

The people watching were all stunned at what they had just seen apart from Andromeda who ran to the unconscious form of her daughter to try and rouse her.

"What the hell was that, Potter?" Arcturus asked with a little awe in his voice. "That should not be possible."

"Something I've been working on," Harry shrugged, "though I haven't tried it with anything stronger than a stunner," he added rubbing the back of his neck.

"How?" Sirius asked quietly.

"It's the same as batting the spell away but you block and manipulate the magic to capture the spell," he explained. "The second part is a parseltongue modification spell that's usually used for healing charms. It usually modifies a bone knitting charm into a skin sealing charm without having to end the spell. I found it works with combat magic and can turn a stunner into pretty much what I want, but it doesn't work unless it is done in parseltongue."

"That is quite something", Arcturus mused aloud.

"You're a parselmouth?" Ted asked nervously.

"Yes, it's something I inherited from my Black heritage," Harry answered the apprehensive man.

Narcissa just looked on in shock at the younger man but said nothing. She was admittedly impressed but this was just a friendly duel, she was not convinced by the boy.

"She won't wake," Andromeda called worriedly from across the room.

"It's okay, Mrs Tonks", Harry said walking towards the duo. "I only turned it into a stunning spell you might not be strong enough to counter it," he explained leaning over the auror. _"Enervate," _he mumbled pointing his wand at the woman.

Nymphadora Tonks woke to the brightest green eyes she had ever seen. They were alit with power and there seemed to be gently flickering emerald flames within them that shone in the dim light. There was something else there that didn't seem to fit the power she saw; concern, there was concern in them. She flushed a gentle pink and her hair turned involuntarily red at the beauty she saw in those orbs. Before she could compose herself or speak, she heard the voice belonging to those eyes and she remembered where she was.

"My apologies, Miss Tonks," Harry said sincerely. "I didn't expect it to be so powerful," he finished, offering his hand to help her to her feet.

Tonks took the offered hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet by the surprisingly gentle grip of the young man.

"Ouch," she gasped suddenly rubbing her chest. "Why is it always the chest with you, Potter."

Harry just raised an eyebrow at her and pointed his wand at her chest, hissing a spell that made the pain dissipate immediately.

"You do make them quite the target," he retorted, eliciting another flush from the auror who tried to control it but failed miserably. She was not used to being made to feel this way. It was her who usually embarrassed other people and put them on the back foot. She crossed her arms and huffed, scowling at Harry who just let a snort of laughter pass as he shook his head at her antics.

Andromeda turned to her grandfather and addressed the man, still surprised by all she had seen.

"Why couldn't I wake her?" she asked confused.

"The boy is a lot more powerful than you," Arcturus answered matter-of-factly.

"But he is only fifteen," she said exasperatedly.

"And he has already been through his magical maturity," Arcturus shrugged.

"Already?" Sirius cut in, "But that shouldn't happen for at least a few more years."

"He is hardly the average wizard, is he?" Arcturus asked rhetorically.

"How long did it last?" Andromeda broke in once more.

"Potter?" Arcturus called, garnering the boys' attention. "How long did your maturity last?"

" About eleven days," Harry replied.

"Eleven?" Sirius whispered. "Mine was only five and James's was six."

"Mine was five," Andromeda added in awe.

"Five for me too," Ted chimed in.

"Nymphadora's was six, I think," Andromeda continued. "How powerful is he?".

"Powerful enough to drive away a hundred Dementors," Sirius said in realisation. "When he was thirteen."

Andromeda scoffed.

"A thirteen-year-old producing a corporeal patronus is one thing but driving off that many dementors too?" she asked.

"He saved my life doing it," Sirius said quietly.

"I don't believe it," Andromeda said shaking her head. "It's just not possible."

"Harry? Can you show us prongs?" Sirius requested.

Harry looked a little nervous and sheepish before he answered his godfather. He didn't want to disappoint the man but he couldn't give him what he wanted.

"It's not Prongs anymore," he whispered.

"What do you mean?" Sirius questioned worriedly.

"It's changed now and it's a she," Harry answered, looking at Arcturus who nodded in recognition.

"Can I see?" Sirius asked.

Harry swallowed but nodded and thought of the picture currently sat on his bedside table.

"_Expecto Patronum," _he whispered and his now familiar Thestral appeared in a burst of the brightest white light and a heat that warmed the entire room.

"Incredible," Andromeda muttered in awe, reaching out to touch the creature. "You can actually touch her."

"A Thestral?" Sirius said in surprise with a frown which quickly changed to raised eyebrows that almost disappeared into his hairline. "Aunt Dorea?" he asked Arcturus who nodded solemnly.

"The boy knew nothing of his family at all," he spat bitterly. "But I told him all about his grandparents. It's up to you to tell him about his parents."

Sirius nodded knowing it is something he owed Harry and himself. He had barely spoken about James and Lily for fifteen years and there was no one he would rather discuss them with than his godson.

"Your wand," he suddenly pointed out to Harry. "It was broken and Dumbledore has the pieces. What is that?" he asked looking at the wand still in Harry's hand.

The rest of the room turned their attention to the mentioned wand and looked at it in confusion.

"What is it made of?" Andromeda asked eying the implement curiously.

Harry looked at Arcturus who glared at everyone in the room staring at the boy's wand. A wand was a personal thing and not something that should be asked about, regardless of how curious it appears.

"You don't have to answer," Arcturus told him firmly still glaring at the gathered people.

"It's okay," Harry said. "They can't use it anyway. The outer is made of white ash infused with obsidian."

"That's a Black trait," Sirius interrupted "But it should be a focus stone and combining those two like that must be very difficult."

"The guy couldn't do it that way," Harry said. "The cores are contradictory so one of them had to be put inside the obsidian like that so it could bond with the rest of the cores and wood."

"What are your cores?" Andromeda asked curiously suspecting it was going to be far from a normal combination.

"Hungarian horntail heartstring and Golden griffin claw," Harry said and was interrupted again, this time Ted Tonks who whistled.

"That's quite a combination," he said impressed but was cut off by the teen again.

"Phoenix tears and basilisk venom," he finished quietly.

"Basilisk venom and phoenix tears?" Andromeda asked clearly surprised. "Having an affinity for one is rare enough, but both?"

"I have them both in my blood," Harry explained.

"You'd be dead if you had basilisk venom in your blood," Narcissa cut in sceptically.

"Second year" Harry said darkly. "I got bitten by the snake, Fawkes healed it and I killed the basilisk with a sword. All courtesy of your husband who decided to plant an artefact belonging to Voldemort on an eleven-year-old girl," he spat through gritted teeth at the woman.

Andromeda and Ted looked from Narcissa to Arcturus who nodded.

"I've seen the memory," he confirmed. "However, we are here to discuss what we are going to do next," he said, steering the conversation back to the business at hand.

"There's not much I can do," Sirius sighed. "I'm a wanted man."

"Then we need to find the rat," Harry cut in with disgust.

"That is your next project, Potter," Arcturus decided. "Bring in the rat."

Harry couldn't help but feel excited by the prospect of getting hold of Pettigrew, the rat would not get away this time if he had any say in the matter. Harry nodded at the older man and smirked malevolently at the opportunity.

"Do not kill him, Potter," Arcturus commanded upon seeing the look. "If you do, this idiot will spend the rest of his life on the run," he reminded the teen sternly, gesturing towards Sirius.

"Kill?" the youngest Tonks piped up. "You don't expect him to kill really, do you?" she asked getting a nod of agreement from Sirius and Ted.

"This is war," Arcturus spat. "You kill or be killed. What, you plan on stunning everyone?" he asked sarcastically. "Because these bastards won't be firing stunners, I can promise you that."

"Dumbledore won't like that," Tonks pointed out nervously.

"Tough shit," Arcturus spat. "I am not Dumbledore and Dumbledore is not fucking in charge of anyone who opposes these bastards. If you listen to him, you will die."

"You're all insane," Narcissa whispered. "He is going to kill you all, you don't stand a chance."

Before anyone could utter a reply, Harry stormed over to the woman, finally having enough of her presence and her attitude. Everyone felt the temperature of the room drop considerably as the teen made his way to her and shuddered at the power they could feel radiating from him.

Harry looked at her in the eyes with a penetrating stare and saw her pale at his towering figure.

"I am going to kill the bastard and any of the fucking morons who bear his mark," he spoke dangerously, with conviction. "That includes your prick of a husband and your idiot son if he joins him. Do you want to know the type of man your husband is?"

Narcissa simply could not answer, frozen with fear. She could feel her body shaking and lip trembling at how intimidated she was. She had only ever felt this kind of fear in the presence of the Dark Lord and she did not like it. She believed every word the boy was saying, she could see the sincerity in the emerald fire-filled eyes in front of her. She swallowed deeply and waited for him to continue, hoping he would let her leave. He knew she could not breathe a word to anyone and she just hoped he would remember that.

"Your husband and his friends watched and taunted a 14-year-old as he was tortured over and over again by a madman. They laughed and spurred him on seeing it as entertainment. And believe me, I will tear them all limb from limb and piss on whatever is left when I get my hands on them. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Macnair, Avery, Travers. Do you want me to continue?"

Narcissa was horrified at how feral the young man looked and knew he meant every word he was saying. Before she could even fathom replying the cold look left the boys' face and he looked his normal self.

"But don't worry Mrs Malfoy, I will make sure you get whatever remains of your husband," he warned in what seemed a joyful and condescending tone that only the woman in front of him detected the promise within. "Now get out."

Narcissa spared only a small glance at her family before exiting the room as quickly as possible, watched the entire time by the Potter boy. Harry just curled his lip in distaste at the woman before turning to look at the other occupants of the room who seemed concerned by his demeanour.

"Damn, Harry," Sirius finally managed to utter. "You're serious," he added getting nods of agreement from the Tonks family.

"I meant every word" Harry confirmed.

Arcturus looked at the young man appraisingly and had no doubt about the boys' ability and intentions. He was silently impressed and couldn't be prouder of him.

_'Just like Charlus'_ he thought to himself, nodding slightly.

"Where do we go from here?" Andromeda asked everyone in the room.

"Potter will get the rat," Arcturus reaffirmed indicating Harry who nodded. "You and your husband keep your eyes and ears open and start preparing a case for this moron," he added gesturing to Sirius. "And you two" he said pointing at Tonks and his grandson. "I want to know what Dumbledore knows; he may be an old fool but he knows more than he lets on."

"He doesn't tell us much," Sirius answered. "But he has members of the order guarding something in the department of mysteries."

"Does he?" Arcturus questioned scratching his chin. "Something he's after?"

Sirius and Tonks could only nod, not being sure what exactly was being guarded.

"Find out what it is, it is obviously important," he commanded. "Anything else?"

"How was the funeral?" Harry asked quietly to Tonks and Sirius who looked confused.

"What funeral?" Sirius asked looking at Tonks who shrugged.

"Hagrid's,'" Harry answered frustrated. "Don't tell me no one knows."

"Know what?" Sirius asked.

"About the giants," Harry sighed exasperatedly. "We saw them, about twenty of them and they had killed Hagrid and Maxime."

"Hagrid's dead?" Sirius asked dumbly. "But Dumbledore would have told us that."

"He obviously doesn't know," Harry huffed in realisation. "You have to tell him. He and Hagrid were good friends."

"I will," Sirius assured him. "I'm sorry, I knew you were close to him too."

"It happens," Harry replied shrugging. "It will happen a lot more before this is done with."

"What should we tell Dumbledore?" Tonks asked.

"Tell him you were seeing me," Harry decided.

"That will work," Arcturus agreed. "Say Potter told you to come alone or he wouldn't show."

The other two nodded and prepared to leave. "How will we contact you?" Sirius asked.

"You won't. Unless it is an emergency then you call for his elf Dobby, but only if it is urgent, understood?" he asked.

They nodded, Sirius a lot more reluctantly but he did agree, it was much easier this way and they would less likely be found out. With that they both took hold of Sirius' return portkey and left. Andromeda and Ted both bid their farewells and left also, leaving Harry and Arcturus alone with the goblin.

"That went as well as can be expected," Arcturus said. "You handled yourself well, Potter, you should be proud of your performance" he praised the teen.

Harry looked at the man in confusion before replying. "That wasn't a performance," before he disappeared with a gentle pop.

Arcturus looked at the goblin with raised eyebrows and got a shrug in return.

"Young Potter is quite something isn't he?" the goblin asked.

"He is indeed," Arcturus replied shaking his head and following Harry home in the same fashion.

_(BREAK)_

Sirius and Tonks arrived in the hallway at Grimmauld Place and silently made their way to the kitchen. They walked in on what was clearly an unscheduled meeting of the order and the room fell silent at their entrance.

"It's nice of you to join us," Dumbledore broke the silence sounding amused with a twinkle in his eyes.

Before Sirius or Tonks could reply the shrill tone of Molly Weasley cut through the room.

"Sirius Black!" she screeched. "Where on earth have you been?"

Sirius felt immediately irritated by the overbearing woman and interrupted before she could begin her lecture.

"Not that it is any of your concern, but I went to see my godson."

"You saw Harry?" Molly asked, forgetting the scolding she wanted to give the man. "Well, where is he?"

"Clearly he's not here," Sirius responded gesturing around the room.

"Well why didn't you bring him back?" she questioned angrily. "You should have made him come back with you, he's just a boy and he need looking after."

"pfft, yeah right," Tonks added quietly.

Before she could be questioned Sirius intervened on her behalf.

"Harry does not want to be here, he is safe," he said attempting to placate the distraught woman. "And believe me, we couldn't make him come back if we wanted to."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Molly asked the duo who shared a knowing look.

"It means that Potter would wipe the floor with any of us who tried," Tonks explained. "Believe me, I know."

"Surely you're exaggerating," Bill Weasley interjected.

"I wish I was," Tonks mumbled in reply. "I bet even Alastor would struggle."

Moody looked excited by the prospect of that kind of challenge. "Aye, you think that?" he growled.

"I know that," Tonks replied. "He does things that I've never seen and you can't hit him. His power is just something else, he's already had his maturity" she added to those with confused looks. "Eleven days it lasted."

"Eleven days," Dumbledore mused thoughtfully. "Mine was only nine and didn't start until I was seventeen," he added looking amused.

All the occupants in the room looked surprised by the information and shocked by the addition of what Dumbledore had said.

"He's really that powerful?" Kingsley Shacklebolt asked in awe.

"And faster than a hiccup," Sirius added.

"How is he?" Dumbledore asked sincerely. "What has he been doing?"

"Training, obviously," Sirius began. "He's bigger than me and he's not a boy anymore. Whatever happened to him in that graveyard, turned him into a man, but he is ok, he has never looked better and healthier."

Dumbledore was relieved to say the least. It was not often he allowed himself to form a close attachment with a student but Harry was different and had proven it time and time again. Dumbledore truly cared for the boy and wanted nothing more than for Harry to find some happiness in life, happiness he had always been denied.

"I'm pleased," he said simply.

"You're not going to try and bring him back?" Molly asked incredulously.

"You heard yourself that it wouldn't be possible," Dumbledore replied. "And I wouldn't force him if I could. All we can do is support him when he needs it and he will need it. The outcome of this war hinges on Harry and it is up to him to end it."

"You can't be serious, Albus," Molly interjected. "I thought you were joking before but you really mean it don't you? You mean for Harry to kill him?"

"I do," the older man replied firmly. "It is the only way."

"Really, Headmaster?" Snape cut in. "You still think that Potter will win this war?"

Before Dumbledore could answer Sirius interrupted his childhood nemesis.

"Not only has Harry vowed to kill that bastard, Snivellus, he has his sights set on anyone who has the mark. He says he wants revenge for what has been done to his family and himself."

"Well, I don't believe a word of it," Snape spat. "He's just an arrogant and insolent whelp just like his father."

"He's nothing like James," Sirius said a little sadly. "He's nothing like Lily for that matter. He is much more like Charlus."

"Then Merlin help anyone who stands in front of him," Minerva whispered with a shudder.

Those who were not aware of the older Potter's reputation just shrugged and those who were felt a little easier knowing Harry was fighting the good fight. Moody and Dumbledore shared a knowing nod.

"Let's hope you don't run into him on one of your raids, Snape" Moody growled in amusement. "If he is anything like his grandfather then he will not hesitate to kill you and believe me it won't be pleasant."

"What was so great about Harry's grandfather?" Bill Weasley asked.

"Charlus Potter was one of the toughest bastards in centuries to be born to the wizarding world," Moody explained. "He fought against Grindelwald personally and had a reputation of taking no prisoners. He came and taught us for a while when I was a cadet."

He shook his head at the painful memories of the training.

"Even Albus himself wouldn't want to fight him, isn't that right?" he asked the older man in amusement.

Dumbledore just shook his head.

"I had very little to do with Charlus, but no, I would not have wanted to cross wands with him," he admitted.

"Would have been a hell of a fight," Moody sighed.

"Has Harry acquired a new wand?" Dumbledore asked, wanting to get back on the subject of the boy.

"He does," Sirius replied, "and he knows how to use it."

"He will need to," Dumbledore muttered. "Before we wrap up is there any other business?" he asked.

"Yes, Hagrid and Maxime's mission was a failure, Harry came across the giants here and they had killed them both Albus," he explained apologetically.

"Very well," Dumbledore said swallowing sadly, his eyes immediately shining with tears at the loss of his friend. "Meeting adjourned," he added, taking his leave immediately via the front door.

"Shouldn't we go after him?" Molly asked worriedly.

"No lass," Moody said shaking his head. "He will want to be alone a while."

With that the meeting broke up and only the Weasleys' remained.

"What is Harry up to?" Molly asked gently, not wanting to annoy Sirius.

"Well as of now he is hunting for a rat," Sirius answered happily.

"A rat?" Molly asked.

"All will become clear soon enough, Molly," Sirius replied. "Goodnight," he added to the confused trio as he left the kitchen to head to his room for a much-needed good night sleep.


	7. The Looming Darkness

**A/N**

**Chapters are being shortened slightly. **

**Chapter 7: The Looming Darkness**

Six weeks had passed since the meeting in the Hog's Head and life in the castle had, if possible, gotten worse. Umbridge's tyranny had become fanatical and had evolved from that of an inconvenience, to something of a complete hindrance. She had all but nullified any of the authority of the other professors, including the headmaster, and now the castle seemed to be functioning by her will and rules. To enforce these rules, she had offered certain students a place in her 'Inquisitorial Squad' which was nothing short of a group of bullies and sycophants looking to victimise any they came across without due cause.

Of course, being handpicked by Umbridge herself, the squad consisted of mostly older Slytherin students from pureblood families and a select few who were lackeys. At first there had been much vocal objection to such a group but those individuals were soon silenced after a detention or two with the toad herself.

Yes, Dolores Umbridge was very happy with her implementation and the enforcement of her decrees and she found that being on top here could be quite the easy assignment.

There were of course a few students that still needed to be quelled as demonstrated by the occasional disturbance in the castle. Such distractions came in the form of fireworks and other pranks usually aimed at her squad, but Umbridge was certain the perpetrators would be apprehended soon enough and then her peace would prosper.

(BREAK)

The students that had met in Hogsmeade had thus far been successful in holding their meetings undisturbed. Simple proximity and silencing wards coupled with Fred and George placing time delayed fireworks throughout the castle on the evenings they met had so far assured them a window of opportunity for practice. They made a point of changing the location each time and thanks to Hermione's ingenuity with some charmed Galleons, the time and date could be given to all discreetly.

They had so far worked on some of the spells required to complete their OWL in defence and a few extracurricular ones for all round self-defence. Hermione would research the spells before the meetings and the group would work on casting them together after she explained the theory. The older students in attendance would help the younger ones with the OWL level work and then the group would work collectively on the other magic they wanted to practice. Tonight, was the fourth meeting the group had scheduled and they were currently gathered in an unused classroom on the sixth floor waiting for the meeting to begin.

Hermione had been tirelessly researching spells that would help in a fight but focused more on spells that would allow them to escape. It seemed that the library at Hogwarts was quite a good source for extra spells, particularly on basic duelling magic.

The group had already worked on stunning, disarming and binding spells and today, she was hoping to teach them the Impediment jinx that Harry had discovered last year and had used during the tournament.

Hermione found her position rather odd. She had never been the centre of attention or even really listened to until she met Ron and Harry but things had really changed with start of these meetings. People listened and even sought further advice from her which she happily provided where she could. Despite this however, she was not entirely comfortable leading this group and mostly felt out of sorts being in this position. She knew Harry would complete the teaching part of the group better than she ever could and he wouldn't make mistakes when casting spells as she did occasionally. But she knew that there really was no other who could take the reins in the circumstances so she persevered and did what she could.

Having worked through the entirety of the OWL level magic in defence, she watched as the rest of the group practiced and waited her turn to demonstrate the spell. After a few more minutes the group seemed content with the academic portion of the meeting so she stepped forward to address them when she saw they were waiting for her to begin.

"Okay I think today we will work on the Impediment jinx," she announced.

"What does it do?" Neville asked, clearly never having heard of it before.

"It slows down your opponent and buys you a little time to either escape or attack with something that takes a little longer to produce," Hermione explained. "But it does have its drawbacks and isn't completely reliable."

"What do you mean?" Lee Jordan inquired.

"Well, if you cast it against a powerful wizard or creature it may have little to no affect," she began in her usual lecture mode. "The duration of the spell depends on how powerful you cast it and the power of your opponent, so casting it on someone like Dumbledore or You-Know-who probably isn't a good idea but it is useful to know."

"Okay that sounds good," Hannah Abbott said. "What would you follow up with though if you're not as strong as your opponent?"

Hermione considered the question for a moment before she answered.

"Well, if you were looking to escape then a Banishing charm would be good to give you more space," she suggested thoughtfully. "They are usually easy to block but quick to cast so if you cast it straight after then there's a good chance it will hit if your first jinx lands."

"What's the incantation and wand movement?" Astoria Greengrass asked, keen to begin practicing.

"The wand movement is a semi-circle from left to right followed by a flick towards the opponent and the incantation is Impedimenta," Hermione explained.

The students moved off in pairs to begin. Hermione, as usual, worked with Ron as most others were reluctant to. He was still very irritated by the presence of the Slytherins and was convinced they would get them caught, something he was still very vocal about.

Most of the group ignored his outbursts as they had become the norm and no matter how often Fred and George would tell him to shut up, he wouldn't listen.

Hermione had hoped that with a war brewing and Harry no longer here to overshadow him that Ron would commit himself to schoolwork and his own development. If anything, however, he had become even more lazy and his work was worse than it had ever been. He continually made excuses to not complete his homework and Hermione knew had it not been for her helping him, he would be failing miserably. At best, he was still only just achieving a passing grade in all subjects and she knew he was going to perform poorly in his OWLS with or without the toad being here. She was sure he was sore about not receiving the prefect position which, for some reason, he felt he was a shoe in for with the absence of their wayward friend.

He was constantly surly, even in the meetings he made little effort with the spell work and would clearly rather be reading his quidditch magazines or playing chess. No matter how much Hermione tried to help him, it made no difference to his attitude. He was rebelling in the face of what he felt was unfair treatment to himself by the fact he had not been given the prefect position. Secretly, Hermione thought that he didn't deserve it. He was simply too lazy and immature to be a good role model to the younger years in their house.

She stood opposite him and gestured for him to try the spell. When he did, nothing happened and he was immediately angry. She could see that his wand movement was only done half-heartedly so she pointed it out to him.

"You have to mean it, Ron," she explained. "It is an intent based spell and won't work unless you want it to and your wand movement wasn't fluid enough."

The boy remained red-faced in his anger and growled before trying it again.

"Impedimenta," he seethed through gritted teeth, resulting in nothingness once again. "Impedimenta," he shouted in frustration causing a yellow smoke to leak from his wand instead of a jet of light the same colour.

"Getting angry won't help," Hermione tried to explain but the redhead was already shaking in rage and turning a deeper shade of crimson.

"It's a stupid spell anyway," Ron spat as he walked away and sat at the edge of the room.

"Just ignore him, Hermione," Fred said from behind her, shaking his head. "He's just being a miserable git because of the Slytherins being here."

Hermione looked at her friend, at a loss. There was only so much she could do to help him and if he was unwilling to try, then her efforts would be fruitless.

She began scanning the room to check the progress of the rest of the group. She could see they were all doing quite well with the spell and were all working well together in their pairs. It was then that she checked her watch and saw that it was time to end the meeting before they were caught.

"That's all we have time for today guys," she announced. "Good work everybody."

"Granger," Daphne Greengrass called to gain her attention as everyone was preparing to leave.

"Yes Daphne?" Hermione sighed at being addressed by her last name.

"Didn't You-know-who use lots of creatures like werewolves and giants last time?" She asked. "Shouldn't we be working on fighting them?"

"Well, werewolves are very fast, very powerful and notoriously difficult to take down," she said, her expression darkening. "I saw Professor Lupin transform in third year so I would recommend that you run and get away as quickly as you can. They are very feral in wolf form and not so intelligent so it is easier to escape from them than try to fight them. A simple Scent-masking charm and Silencing charms on your feet will help when you get out of sight of one. If you do have to fight, then you need to have a silver blade handy or be able to conjure weapons to banish at them. You don't want to get close at all."

"We don't start conjuration until seventh year," Neville pointed out.

"Yeah, and it is very tiring," George added knowingly.

"We should practice the Disillusionment charm then," Angelina Johnson broke in. Seeing the blank expressions on most of the faces in the room she elaborated. "It makes you near invisible, that with the scent masking charm and silencing charms should be enough."

"That's a good idea," Hermione praised, annoyed with herself that she hadn't thought of it.

"What about giants?" Michael Corner asked looking apprehensive at the thought.

"They are pretty much immune to magic," Hermione explained. "You have to be more than exceptionally powerful and accurate to bring one down. You must use solid objects and they need to be heavy and deadly enough to stop one. The amount of magic you would need use to do it would be exhausting."

"But it can be done?" Katie Bell asked curiously.

"Yes, but very few can do it and most die trying. The last person to kill a giant single handed was someone Potter in the 1940's when they fought for Grindelwald," she said, frowning at the effort to remember the information she had read so long ago.

"Potter?" Fred asked. "A relative of our little Harrikins?"

"I think so," Hermione answered uncertainly. "I tried to research his family but have found nothing."

"And you won't," Daphne interrupted. "The Potters are known for their privacy and secrecy. They always have been and with the death of Potter's parents everything became more obscure. I think Dumbledore had some laws passed to protect his family secrets until he comes of age and can do it himself."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"When a prominent family is expecting a child, they announce it to the public," Daphne explained gaining murmurs of agreements from those who were aware. "The Potters never have. A Potter child just seem to materialise when they come of school age, they always have done and the child's parentage isn't always clear. The Potter family use to be huge but many died fighting wars and the family eventually dwindled down to what remained when You-know-who came along. I very much doubt any of us would have been aware of Potter until he came to school, if that Halloween night didn't happen."

"Surely there would be a public record," Hermione stated feeling a little shocked at this new information about her friend's family.

"Sealed and can only be accessed by a Potter. Blood magic, I imagine" Daphne shrugged.

"But that's dark magic," Hermione exclaimed, shocked further. "How do you know this?"

"My mum works in the department of familial records and she told me," Daphne answered.

"Well, from what I know the Potters aren't exactly a light family," Neville interjected looking embarrassed.

"Of course, they are," Ron broke in angrily. "You-know-who went after them."

"I didn't mean they were dark," Neville replied quietly.

"What did you mean Neville?" Hermione asked, biting her lip worriedly.

Neville sighed, feeling unsure on how to answer the question without revealing too much of his own life, particularly the fate of his parents.

"My parents and Harry's parents were really close friends," he began. "I didn't know until a couple of years ago when I asked my Gran who all the people were in the photos I have of them."

"What has that got to do with anything?" Tracey Davis questioned impatiently.

Neville just sighed again before he replied.

"Well I asked my Gran about Harry's family, knowing that his parents were dead, I wondered where he was raised because I found out my mum was his godmother and his mum was mine."

It was clear that the entirety of the room was quite shocked by that statement. It was Hermione that composed herself and manage to question him first.

"Why did you never tell Harry?" she asked softly.

Neville shrugged.

"It was pointless," he said dejectedly. "Harry and I aren't close friends and it wouldn't make any difference, neither of our parents could fulfil the duty any way."

Ginny was about to ask a question but was cut off by an even more irritable Tracey Davis.

"And how does that not make the Potters light?" she asked, clearly frustrated.

Neville shook himself from his reverie before he answered.

"Oh, erm, well I asked my Gran about the rest of his family and she told me about his Grandfather, I think she said his name was Charlus and he was a Baron. She said she went to school with him."

"That's it!" Hermione exclaimed. "He was the last one to kill a giant."

" A Baron?" Lee Jordan asked. "I've heard of Lords but not a Baron."

"Barons are really rare," Daphne cut in. "You have to earn the title in battle and be a very good fighter. It means you become a protector of the land and people."

"Is it that rare?" Hermione asked, not having come across the title regarding the wizarding world.

"Yes, you get one or two every few centuries at the most, there was two from the last war so one of them must have been Potter's grandfather," Daphne explained.

"None of this still explains why they are not light," a now irate Tracey Davis interrupted.

It was Neville that finally answered after a moment of remembering what his Gran had told him.

"My Gran told me she saw him duel a guy once and he burnt him to a crisp before he castrated him. She said he used dark magic in the fight and that he was very powerful and ruthless."

"But he fought against Grindelwald," George pointed out.

"Yes, and to survive that he would have had to kill," Hermione said in just above a whisper. "Are you sure that's what she said?"

"Yes," he answered vehemently. "That's why I said I don't think the Potter's are a light family, they fight in wars and always have meaning they use spells and magic that is lethal."

"But they fight against dark wizards" Fred stated looking confused.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean they are light just because they fight for the light side" Hermione replied. "There has to be some willing on the light side to kill for the light side to win" She pointed out. "Look at Mad-eye Moody" she added, using the ex-auror as an example.

"He openly admits to using dark magic," Fred pointed out. "But he fights for the light side."

"So, Harrys' family are like Moody?" Ron asked disbelievingly.

"They must be," Hermione replied. "Did your Gran mention anything about his Gran?" She asked Neville who shook his head.

"All she said was that she was a healer and died not long after Harry was born," he answered.

"My mum said the same," Daphne added.

"Can't you just go to where they are buried and see?" Tracey asked.

"No, the graves were charmed to stop You-know-who's followers from desecrating them, only Potter and people he takes with him can see them," Daphne explained knowingly.

"They really do like to keep their secrets don't they," Tracey mock sulked.

The group laughed at her antics before Hermione reminded them that they should be leaving. They were again halted by a question, this time by Katie Bell.

"What about the Dementors?" she asked nervously. "They sided with him last time."

Hermione saw the nervous expressions of the people gathered and knew they were not going to be pleased with her answer, but she would not lie to them. She let out a deep breath before she replied.

"Obviously the Patronus Charm is the best way to deal with them, but I can't do it" she explained clearly disappointed in herself. "I'm not powerful enough and I don't think I ever will be."

"You're only sixteen," Angelina Johnson pointed out.

"Yes, but less than 1% of the entire population of wizards and witches are capable of producing one. You need a hell of a lot of power and concentration and be able to maintain both at the same time to do it" she explained further. "I have the concentration but not the power and the chances of even one of us in here being able to do it is almost impossible."

"How long have you been trying?" Ginny asked.

"Since the end of third year," Hermione answered dejectedly. "I can feel the pull on my magic but nothing happens and it drains me completely, I feel very weak afterwards and can't even light my wand for a few hours. That should tell you how powerful Harry is knowing he could produce and maintain a corporeal one at just thirteen."

The members of the group looked at each other feeling defeated. They knew that Granger was easily one of the most powerful in the room and if it had that effect on her, then none of them had a realistic chance at doing any better.

There was only one person in the room who begged to differ and promised themselves they would master it. They remembered the affect the Dementors had when they boarded the train in search of Sirius Black and they were not willing to experience that again without the ability to fight back.

With that the somewhat sombre teens exited the room and made their way back to their common rooms in silence, each lost in thoughts of what was coming and what they would do. Many of them hoped that what they had heard about the Potter family was true and that Harry would come through for them, if he was in fact alive.

Most of them knew they were not born fighters nor destined for greatness on the battlefield but they would learn as much as they could to defend themselves when and if the situation called for it. Inside they knew they would need a saviour, someone who was willing to end the fight and someone who would do what was necessary for that to happen.

(BREAK)

Narcissa Malfoy was stressed and had been since she had left that meeting at Gringotts. When she reflected on said meeting, she would feel a shiver travel down her spine and through her very core at the memory. Learning that her Grandfather was alive had of course shocked her, but that shock was nothing compared to seeing that Potter was alive and what he had become. She hated to admit it to herself but she was terrified of the teen in the same way she feared the Dark Lord, there was just something highly unusual about the pair of them that made her uncomfortable.

Lucius had barely paid any attention to as he had been continuously busy of behalf of his master attempting to manipulate things in his favour so he had not become aware of her tense and nervous disposition. She knew he was spending much time abroad attempting to gain allies for the cause so he had barely been present to notice much anyway. She had tried to find a way around the vow she had given but even the thought of breaking it caused her magic to react very painfully and thus, she found herself in quite the quandary. Her husband continued to strut around like a prized peacock completely ignorant of the developments that she was aware of. He was a capable wizard himself but she knew just from what she saw that he was no match for the Potter boy.

She had written to Draco as Potter had suggested and begged him to keep his head down and not get involved in the coming conflict but had received no reply and assumed that he had already made up his mind. Her stress levels had reached a point where it was quickly becoming unbearable. She knew if Lucius became aware that she had withheld important information like this, regardless of the vow she had given, he would be very displeased and her life would become very miserable, if he allowed her to live that is.

She had discreetly begun moving funds into a private account if the need to flee arose. This was of course a last resort. She loved her son and husband but her self-preservation had caused her to take steps to ensure her safety. She knew that either way the war was going to be a painful experience for her. She was either going to lose what was left of her blood relatives or she was going to lose the family she had married and created. She resigned herself to the fact that the coming days were going to be dark for her regardless of the outcome of the brewing war.

(BREAK)

The Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had barely been seen since he learned of the death of his long-time friend. Dumbledore felt as though a part of him had died along with Rubeus. He had known the man since he was a child and had grown to love him as any man would their own son. Not being that way inclined towards the opposite sex he had never fathered children of his own but he had found the closest thing possible in Rubeus. He carried a lot of guilt where the half-giant was concerned. Not only had he failed to have him reinstated as a student after he had been expelled as a boy, he had been killed while carrying out a task for him and that had pushed him to a grief he hadn't felt since the death of his younger sister. Yes, Dumbledore was miserable and his thoughts of guilt and misery had led him to reflect on other aspects of his life.

His sister had died in an accident involving himself, his brother and Gellert and Dumbledore felt her blood on his hands every passing day. This was the first incident he would never be able to forgive himself for and knew his brother never would either. He could only help that wherever his sister was that she did forgive him for his mistake.

The second instant that came to mind was the death of Gellert during their duel that concluded the war. He had only intended to subdue him and bring him in but it was not to be. Had he been able to travel with him as planned Albus knew that his friend would not have become what he did as he was always able to rein in his darker and violent tendencies. Without Albus' guidance he had succumbed to the darkness and become the monster he had and again, Dumbledore felt the blood on his hands of all of those that fell to his maniacal cause.

Then there was the most recent victim of his interferences, Harry Potter. The death of Rubeus had made Albus realise that he had the same paternal instincts towards the boy and loved him as though he were his grandson. But again, all he could see was the way he had failed the boy. He knew the Dursleys' were not pleasant people but never dreamed they could treat the boy the way they had, placing the boy with them was his first mistake.

His school years had barely been any better and each year he only made further mistakes regarding Harry, who continuously surprised the older man with his resilience and abilities. When he discovered the Horcrux within the boy at the end of his third year he had retired to his office and wept at what he thought the boys' fate would have to be. He vowed he would dedicate the rest of his life if necessary to find a way to save him. and he did just that. He had to go against his own morals and venture into some very dark and obscure magic to find the solution but he found it. It was not ideal in any sense but he knew it would have to be done. When he discovered that the abomination had been removed by other means he once again retired to his office and wept for the boy, this time in joy.

Reflecting on all the mistakes he had made he concluded that he did not deserve the forgiveness of either Harry or Rubeus, but he would do all he could to atone for his mistakes. He knew he would have to have a long and painful conversation with the young man in the future and he would face the consequences when they came. He simply wanted to help Harry as much as he could, whilst he could, and would do all he could to do so. He vowed that he would hold nothing back and be completely open and honest with him. If anyone deserved it, it was Harry Potter.

In honour of his fallen friend he had already personally erected a monument in the forbidden forest with the help of many of the creatures who lived there. They all knew, respected and even loved the man who had cared for them when they had needed it. The Acromantula, Aragog, had been inconsolable at the loss of the half-giant and declared that his kind would never side with Riddle and would protect the forest from him and his ilk.

Even the centaurs had paid their respects with their own warrior salute that they only gave to their own kind after they had fallen in battle. Dumbledore had been particularly touched by this sentiment knowing that it was very unusual for this honour to be bestowed on a different creature.

The creatures of the forest, upon learning of the death, came from far and wide to add their own touch to the monument. What stood now was a life-sized wooden Norwegian Ridgeback adorned with many gifts from various creatures. There was a unicorn horn, a bow and arrow from the centaurs, an abundance of very rare and valuable Acromantula silk given by Aragog himself, various types of fangs, antlers and feathers, thestral hair and even what Dumbledore suspected was Nundu fur and a chimera claw, he really did not want to know where they had come from.

Albus was certain that Rubeus would love the tribute and only wished he could do more. He knew it was not wise to announce the death publicly yet and knew that even if he did there would be little compassion from the public thanks to the article that Skeeter had published the previous year regarding his parentage.

Despite his best efforts, the depression he felt remained and he was certain it would not shift any time soon. He knew he would have to speak to Harry in the near future but in the meantime, he would do all he could to make his final task at least possible.

(BREAK)

Sirius Black was experiencing mixed emotions. He was happy that he had received a letter from Harry this morning requesting a meeting, it was simple note that read.

_Same Place, Same Time_

_H_

He was excited to see his godson again but he was very worried about Remus. He had left two months ago to gage the mood of the werewolf clans on the continent and had heard no word from the man since his departure which was very unusual, especially considering that he had written to him shortly after he returned from Gringotts. He knew there was little he could do however as he was stuck here at his hated home.

He knew Harry was trying to locate the traitor rat and only hoped he had good news on that front to give him that very night. He had continued his training in much better spirits and with more determination after witnessing first-hand the development of his godson. He now knew he was more than capable of handling himself in a fight and was pleased with the progress. It was now seldom he wallowed in the guilt he felt for his failing of many years passed. Yes, the pain was still raw but he had been given the chance to redeem himself and he fully intended on doing so as soon as he was a free man. Something he was confident would happen with Harry personally seeing to it. All he had to do now was wile away the final hours before he would see Harry again and find out what progress, if any, the teen had made.

(BREAK)

Harry Potter had experienced a very mixed six weeks. He had immediately begun his search for the rat and had even obtained the assistance of Dobby. What became clear quickly was that the traitor was hiding and hiding well.

From Arcturus he had learnt that things were beginning to move behind the scenes. A few people of note had gone missing and he had heard of attempts of extortion and intimidation taking place in several establishments. Of course, none of this had been reported in the prophet and Harry guessed that this was the work of the idiotic minister.

He had spent time in disguise frequenting Knockturn Alley and many other unsavoury locations until he at last had come across his first lead on Pettigrew which he planned on following the next day.

It had been three days ago that he found himself in a rundown pub in the alley when he overheard a conversation at the table next to his, where two people who were not familiar to him were talking in hushed voices.

"So, he sent the rat to Toulouse to represent him?" a very grubby and unkempt man asked his companion disbelievingly.

"Shh, keep it down" his equally unclean acquaintance replied shooting a furtive glance around the room.

Harry pretended to mind his own business and feigned drinking from his filthy glass of Firewhisky which he was gradually wandlessly vanishing instead of consuming.

"Yes," the man continued when he was sure they were not being eavesdropped on. "Don't ask me why but he seems to trust him."

"I wouldn't trust that piss-ant to parley with flobberworms," the first man declared defiantly.

"Then be grateful it isn't up to you."

Having gained what he came for Harry placed a single galleon on the bar and nodded at the barman before exiting and making his way home.

When he arrived and informed Arcturus of his development the older man looked pleased with the progress.

"Good work, Potter" he praised. "Now you can relax for a couple of days before you go, you have been a surly git since we got back from the family meeting."

"I'm sorry, it's just that this is important to me."

"I know, so why don't you go and see the idiot before you go and tell him," Arcturus suggested. "And don't forget what we talked about after the meeting.".

Harry could hardly forget the conversation the two had had when they returned from Gringotts. He had apparated into the drawing room and was making his way to his room when he was called back by Arcturus.

"Potter," the older man called upon his arrival. "We aren't finished yet. You and I need to have a discussion."

"Yes, sir" Harry replied taking a seat in front of the desk where the older man had situated himself.

"You can't fight this war yourself" Arcturus stated simply. "You need allies, someone to stand beside you in battle, someone you would trust with your life, understand?"

Harry thought for a moment on what the older man had said and nodded in agreement. As much as he would like to end this war by himself, he knew it was not possible.

"Is there anyone you trust that much?" Arcturus asked.

Again, Harry thought about what he had been asked and found that there was only one person who had not wronged him and had been honest with him from the start.

"Only you, sir."

The older man had not expected that answer but found that he was somewhat touched by the sentiment. Despite this he still shook his head ruefully.

"It can't be me," he answered. He raised his hands to silence the young man when he saw that he was going to interrupt. "Let me explain."

"I, like Dumbledore, have had my war, I am too old to be that person. Even in my prime I struggled to keep up with Charlus and now I would stand no chance in that position. Believe me when the time comes, I will fight with everything I have but I cannot be trusted with your life nor can I expect you to carry me as you no doubt would have to."

"Then there is no one I can trust that much," Harry replied, shrugging.

"Although it pains me to admit it, I think there is one person you could rely on, if he learns to curb his foolishness" Arcturus responded.

"Sirius?" Harry

The older man nodded his concurrence.

"Yes, despite his tendency for stupidity and immaturity he is a very gifted and capable wizard and he seems to be taking this war seriously" the older man explained his reasoning. "And beyond that he cares for you as though you were spawned from his own pathetic loins."

Harry agreed.

In the short amount of time he had spent with his convict of a godfather he had shown him nothing but care and regret for his past actions. The man was willing to give the then thirteen-year-old Harry a real home without hesitation having only spent a small amount of time with him. Hell, he escaped Azkaban to try and save him from the traitor and had been on the run since.

"And he can learn the same magic as me," Harry piped up in realisation.

"Indeed, he can and that is an advantage that neither of you should pass up. You should at least consider it."

Harry had spent days considering it and found that despite the lack of presence of his godfather throughout his life, there was no one else he could trust in that way. He had considered both Ron and Hermione but found the former was fickle at best and his jealously would be intolerable. The latter would more than likely take exception to him doing what needed to be done.

If truth be told, he wanted to protect Hermione more than anything else. He knew he would have much blood on his hands by the end of this and did not want her to have to share his fate. He knew she was a capable witch but he could not be certain on her mind set and how she would deal with what was to come. He loved her as he would a sister, had he had one, and he couldn't face being responsible for corrupting her like that. So, he had concluded that Sirius was his best option and even found himself excited at having someone he could rely on when he needed it. He had spent moments in the last few weeks envisioning himself and his godfather emulating their grandfathers on the battlefield, sharing a true meaningful relationship the way they should always have had and watching each other's' backs as the older men once did.

Harry shook his head and broke himself from his reflections before answering the older man.

"Yes sir, I remember."

The older man nodded. "How are you doing with your schoolwork?" he asked the boy knowing he had been paying a lot more attention to it recently.

"I've mastered all the spell work and the theory for both my OWLS and NEWTS and way beyond that."

"Even Runes and Arithmancy?" Arcturus questioned with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, sir, it seems I have a knack for them."

He had been very surprised at how easy he had found the subjects and found useful with his spell work.

"Impressive," the older man replied. "Well we will get Christmas out of the way and I will get Griselda Marchbanks to come and do your OWLS with you. She can be trusted and I will get an oath of silence from her. She is firmly in Dumbledore's corner and will understand why and won't ask many questions."

Harry just nodded and prepared to leave for his rendezvous with Sirius.

"I will come back here before I leave tomorrow."

"Okay, good, that gives us one more chance to go over the plan," the older man responded.

Harry just rolled his eyes and shook his head. They had spent the last two days on the plan and it was firmly implanted in his mind.

"Yes, sir" Harry shouted, standing to attention and adding a mock salute before disapparating.

"Cheeky Bastard," Arcturus mumbled to himself, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

Harry appeared in the conference room at Gringotts, having gotten permission from Barchoke to do so, and awaited the arrival of his godfather. He didn't have to wait long, as soon after his arrival, the door opened to reveal the man. The two looked at each other appraisingly for a few seconds before they each closed the distance between them and grabbed each other in a firm embrace. Eventually they broke apart and Sirius was the first to speak.

"How are you, Harry?" he asked clearly concerned.

"I'm ok Sirius, really I am," he said raising a hand to prevent his godfather questioning him further on his welfare. "Before I forget, I have something for you" he added removing a galleon from his pocket.

Sirius was confused by the gift.

"My life may not be great right now Harry but my coin bag is not that sparse."

Harry just shook his head at the man.

"It is a portkey that will take you to the wandmaker that made mine. Just tap it with your wand and wait for him to activate it from his end to take you to him and he will make you a couple of wands that will work best for you."

Sirius was clearly taken aback by what he had been given.

"Thank you," he said gratefully. "The one I'm using is ok but it could definitely be better."

"Any news on what Dumbledore has the order guarding?" Harry asked.

"No," Sirius replied shaking his head. "He's barely been seen since he found out about Hagrid, he took it very badly. Any news on the rat?"

"I'm going for him tomorrow. From what I have learnt, he is in Toulouse working on something for Voldemort."

"France?" Sirius yelped. "You're not going alone are you?"

"I am. I can take care of myself Sirius and you are certainly not in any position to help me and everyone else either thinks that I'm dead or missing. It has to be done this way, I can get in and out quietly without raising any suspicion."

"I know, but I don't like it," Sirius responded dragging a hand through his hair nervously.

"It will be fine."

Sirius just nodded although he really was not for this idea at all.

"Did you only want to see me to give me this?" he asked waving the coin in front of him.

"No. I've known about you for two years and we haven't spent more than an hour with each other and there's always been other people around. I'm pretty sure my Dad would be pissed about that."

"Yeah, I think old Prongs would prank and hex us into oblivion if he could," Sirius added scratching his chin with a chuckle.

"I went and saw them for the first time on Halloween."

"Oh Harry, I wish I could have been there with you," his godfather said sincerely placing a hand on his godson's shoulder.

"It's okay," Harry replied, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "It was horrible though Mum and Dad's graves were nothing like they should have been so I changed them."

"What do you mean? Can you show me?"

"We can't go there now it's too risky. I don't know if the place is being watched."

"Pensieve?"

"Barchoke isn't here and I doubt he'd like us going through his stuff," Harry pointed out.

"I have one and a bottle of Firewhisky at mine," Sirius offered. "No one else is there and we won't be disturbed in the drawing room.".

Harry just nodded and smirked at the smile his godfather gave him. Sirius handed him a scrap of parchment which he read.

The headquarters of the order of the phoenix can be found at number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Fidelius Charm?"

"Yes, how the hell would you know that?" Sirius asked incredulously, knowing it wasn't learnt about until seventh year.

"I do read Sirius. What? You think I've had my thumb up my arse the last six months?"

"You do surprise me. Can you apparate or do you need the help of your ruggedly handsome godfather for once?" he asked posturing up and posing in a superior manner.

Harry just raised an eyebrow before disappearing without a sound.

"Oh, come on," Sirius said loudly looking towards the ceiling and gesturing dramatically with his arms. "Silent apparation? Really?"

With that he shook his head and followed his godson, trying his very best to be as silent as possible. He appeared in the familiar street outside of his home and immediately fell on his backside.

"Oww," he moaned clamouring to his feet and rubbing his posterior.

"You tried to be silent, didn't you?" Harry asked trying not to laugh.

"Why can't I do it?" Sirius whined petulantly.

"Because you're a crusty old mutt who spent twelve years in Azkaban. You better go in first and see if the coast is clear," he added tapping himself on the head with his wand and disappearing under a Disillusionment charm.

"Crusty old mutt?" Sirius mumbled to himself, shook his head at his godson and entered the house to ensure it was empty. He made his way into the kitchen to find Tonks sat drinking a cup of tea.

"Been somewhere nice?" she asked.

"Is anyone else here?"

"No, it's just me and I was just about to leave," she answered. "Why?"

Sirius ignored her and gestured to the front door to indicate it was safe for Harry to come in. He did so and dropped his charm when he saw it was only the two of them inside.

"Miss Tonks," he said to the now pink haired auror. "It is nice to see you again"

"Potter," she acknowledged simply attempting to compose herself and averted her gaze towards the table.

Harry mock sighed and looked at the young woman appraisingly.

"I do wish you would call me Harry, we have been intimate, after all… in battle of course," he added seeing the woman flush.

Sirius was shaking with the effort to keep himself from bursting with laughter. He had never seen his cousin like this and he knew she would not appreciate him laughing at her expense.

"Yes… well, I have to go," she replied and stood suddenly unable to control her hair changing to a deep crimson to match her face. She left the room in a hurry and the sound of the front door opening and closing was heard very soon after, at which point Sirius lost complete control and roared with laughter, banging his fist on the table.

"When did you become so smooth with the ladies?" he asked wiping tears from his eyes after he had managed to compose himself.

"I honestly don't know," Harry shrugged. "I guess when you are Voldemort's number one target women really aren't so scary."

"Come on Casanova," Sirius said shaking his head and leading them out of the room, "The pensieve is up here."

They entered a nicely furnished drawing room and each stood at the circular oak table in the centre where the pensieve sat.

"I never got the chance to visit them either." Sirius sighed. "Let's see how much they messed it up."

Harry complied and removed the memory of him and Arcturus visiting the graveyard in Godric's Hollow and placed it in the stone bowl. Sirius entered the pensieve and Harry waited for him to return, not wanting to revisit the memory just yet.

It was around ten minutes later that his godfather emerged with puffy eyes and tears streaming down his face. He immediately grabbed Harry and simply cried into his should for a few moments before he pulled himself together enough to speak.

"They would have loved what you did. Thank you, for doing that for them."

"It just felt right," Harry replied solemnly.

Sirius nodded and summoned a bottle of firewhiskey and two glasses from a cabinet on the other side of the room. He poured them both a drink and passed one to Harry before taking a seat. Harry followed his lead and to the two sat in silence for some time, sipping from their glasses.

"You know," Sirius said breaking the silence, "Your father was the first friend I ever had. Being a Black is hard enough with the family reputation and growing up myself and my brother were kept away from other families because of our mother," he explained bitterly draining his glass and refilling it.

Harry sat in silence and just took in every word his godfather was saying.

"I wanted to be different so badly and begged the sorting hat to put me anywhere but in Slytherin. When I was sorted into Gryffindor everyone was shocked. I sat at the table and everyone moved away from me thinking I had tricked the hat. But James came over and introduced himself. He didn't care about my family reputation, probably because of Aunt Dorea being his mother. He sat down and ate with me and didn't care what anyone else thought, that was the type of man your father was Harry."

Harry nodded gratefully at the other man for the information he was sharing.

"Don't get me wrong, he was an arse mostly," he began again with a chuckle, "But he was my best friend and we were both arses together. We didn't take much seriously but we always made sure our work was done and we were the best in our year, along with your mother of course, but we spent our school years playing jokes and pranks and saw everything as a laugh. It wasn't until our fifth year when You-know-who became a real problem that we started to change and even then it wasn't until we graduated that we saw how bad things were getting for ourselves," he finished draining his glass again and pouring another helping for himself and Harry.

"What happened?" Harry asked eagerly.

"We joined the auror academy," Sirius answered simply. "Me, your father, Frank Longbottom, Alice, who would become his wife and the Prewett twins. They were Molly's younger brothers. They wouldn't let Remus join and Peter was nowhere good enough. Your mother stayed on at Hogwarts and completed a charms mastery with Flitwick."

"If my Dad was such an arse, how did he end up with my mum?" Harry asked trying to get his Godfather to backtrack a little.

"Ahh, well your mother really did not like your father much until our seventh year, he was far too immature for her. Your mother was a lot like Hermione at first, a real know it all and wasn't very popular because of it. But that changed as she got older and she curbed her attitude quite a bit and she became good friends with Alice and a few others. Your father hounded her for a date from third year and she agreed to go out with him in seventh I think to just get him off her case," he said chuckling. "Whatever he did on that date must have impressed the hell out of her because after that, they were inseparable and she fell for him hard, everyone could see it."

"And they left school and got married" Harry stated.

"That's pretty much it," Sirius confirmed scratching his chin. "I know it's not much but that's how it was. You have to remember Harry they were only twenty-one when they were killed, they barely made it into adulthood."

"I know," Harry replied just as sadly. "What was it like when they found out mum was pregnant?"

Sirius grinned at the question. "It was very amusing. I was at home and prongs suddenly appeared in my front room looking very pale and struggling to breathe. He was a real mess, stuttering and jabbering like an idiot," he explained, shaking his head. "I thought there had been an attack until he came out with the classic line."

"What did he say?" Harry asked impatiently.

"Now don't hold this against me, remember I was young and thought it was funny."

"Well?" Harry demanded.

Sirius sighed. "He told me that the contraceptive charm I had given him didn't work. What he said was; I should have known a contraceptive charm wouldn't turn my semen orange," he finished, laughing uproariously.

"How the hell did that come about?" Harry asked astounded.

"Well I was drunk and your father appeared pretty much the same as he did that night and asked me for a powerful contraceptive charm, you see powerful wizards sometimes need something a little stronger. I gave him a colour changing charm Remus and I had created, unintentionally, that would change your bodily fluids a different colour, it's quite clever really" he explained with a pleased expression. "Anyway, the result of that little mishap was your mother's pregnancy."

"So, I was a mistake?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Not at all," Sirius replied. "Your Mother was delighted it was James that wanted to wait at first but when he got over the shock, he wanted nothing more than to have you. Even though he was terrified and your mother was a hormonal mess it was the thing he wanted the most. Your grandparents were just as delighted," he added, trying to placate his irate godson.

"Yeah, I have the pictures," Harry mumbled, shaking his head before draining his glass.

Both were beginning to feel the effects of the whisky but were enjoying the long overdue time they were having together. It was Harry that broke the silence next.

"What about you, didn't you meet someone worth holding on to?" he asked sarcastically, completely aware of his godfather's reputation. He was surprised to see a pained expression appear on the mans' face.

"I did," he replied swallowing deeply, the pained look remaining.

"I'm sorry, Sirius, I didn't realise."

"You didn't know," Sirius replied shaking his head. "It's ok," he added, trying to assure the young man. "Wait here a moment."

He left the room and returned a few minutes later, handing Harry a photograph. The photo was of a younger Sirius and a very beautiful dark haired woman who was wrapped in his arms. Harry could clearly see how happy they both were and could only compare it to pictures he had seen of his parents and grandparents. The young woman had hazel eyes and her features were very delicate. She looked almost frail but was stood as tall as his godfather and her eyes brimmed with an air of confidence.

"Her name was Marlene McKinnon and we were engaged to be married. I loved her just as much as your father loved your mother and she was the only woman who ever tamed me and could keep me in line," he added with a forced laugh. "Not a day goes by that I don't think about her Harry. I couldn't ever love someone the same way I loved her, still love her," he corrected. "It was just everything about her, the fact that she was beautiful meant nothing to me compared to just who she was. She was beautiful inside and out. She just had this way about her that I couldn't resist and I know she felt the same about me. She accepted me for who I was and I changed, not because she made me but because of her. She made me a better man, the best man I could be," he finished with a tear escaping from his eye.

"What happened to her?" Harry asked handing the picture back to Sirius who clung to it as if it were a lifeline.

"I'm not completely sure. Her family home was razed to the ground by Death Eaters and they were all killed."

"I'm really sorry Sirius, I didn't mean to drag that up."

"It's okay, honestly. It has taken me a long time to learn to live with it but I have it is just one of the pieces of guilt I have to carry with me, just like your parents."

"That wasn't your fault though," Harry pointed out.

"I didn't personally sell them out but I may as well have," Sirius muttered. "It was me that convinced them to use the rat and even after he handed them over, I went after him instead of being there for you. I should have taken you and raised you as your parents wanted. Instead, I was reckless and went after Wormtail and ended up in Azkaban."

"You didn't know that would happen."

"No but you should have been my first priority," Sirius growled, taking a long pull straight from the bottle. "Because of me, you were raised by those bastards who did god knows what to you and that is my fault Harry, that blame lies only with me."

"If that is how you really feel, then redeem yourself."

"And how can I do that? Look at me," he said gesturing to himself. "I am an on the run prisoner that can't even leave my own house because everyone thinks I am a murderer and would flay me alive in the streets given half the chance."

"We can change that when I get the rat. I survived the Dursleys Sirius, yes it was unpleasant and I hate the bastards for what they put me through, but I'm still here."

He took a moment to compose himself and breathed deeply before he continued.

"The truth is, I need you now more than I ever did before. Your grandfather was right, I can't fight this war alone and I need people by my side that I can trust with my life and who trust me the same way. After speaking to you tonight I know that you are that person, Sirius, and I would gladly have you watching my back when I need it most and I would gladly cover yours."

Sirius was dumbfounded at his godson's declaration and couldn't find the words to reply.

Harry saw that the man was unable to answer so instead, he removed a leather book from his pocket that he resized to the original large leather tome it was.

"This is a book with both the Potter and Black family magic in," he explained.

"I heard Aunt Cassie speak about them once, she said that Charlus and my grandfather both had one but I didn't believe it. James and I overheard them a few times reminiscing about their days at war, but nothing about this."

"I have the other copy. If you really feel guilty for all those things then learn this," he said gesturing to the book. "Let's make every last one of them pay for what they took from us and make sure they don't do it to anyone else. I know you hate your family and don't like the magic but do it for them, Sirius" Harry pleaded. "Do it for my parents and your fiancé, don't let their deaths be for nothing."

Harry let his words sink in before he continued. He knew he was close to convincing his godfather and knew he only needed to push a little more.

"I think this war needs a Potter-Black alliance just like Grindelwald faced, don't you?"

The emotion Sirius was feeling was obvious. The man was overwhelmed at the chance at redemption he had been given and he vowed to himself that he wouldn't squander it. He had failed James and Lily and, in a way, he had failed Marlene too, but he would not fail Harry, he would die before that happened again. He took the book from his godson and nodded resolutely.

"There is no one else I would rather stand with and fall with if necessary," he slurred sincerely. With that proclamation he succumbed to the large amount of alcohol he had consumed and passed out, his head hitting the table with a heavy thud.

"Sleep well, Padfoot. I will be back before you know it" Harry said quietly and placed a kiss on the head of his godfather before he left the house and apparated back home.

He appeared in the drawing room where Arcturus was sat reading a very old looking book. When the older man realised Harry had returned, he raised an eyebrow at the drunken teen.

"Good night?" he asked.

Harry just nodded and took a seat opposite the man.

"I can trust him, like you said," he informed Arcturus.

The older man was relieved to hear it and felt a little easier at the prospect of the coming war. He knew the boy had someone he could rely on and trusted both his and Harry's judgement of his grandson.

"What do you know of the McKinnon's?" Harry asked.

Arcturus pondered the question. They had been a prominent family before they were eliminated in the last war. They were one of the few families he genuinely respected and their loss was felt throughout the entire wizarding community. They were an old family like his own and were a part of the neutral faction when it came to the political arena. It was surprising when they were targeted by Riddle, it made no sense to anyone. They didn't have much influence and they were not as affluent as some of the other families. Fenton McKinnon, the head of the family, was a very outspoken man and quite the proficient fighter but he refused to choose sides. Perhaps it was this that made him a target. Whatever the reasoning, it was something Arcturus could never be sure of.

"They were an old family and well respected. They were killed in the last war. why do you ask?" he questioned the young man.

"Sirius was engaged to one of the daughters, I was just curious" Harry responded.

"Was he?" Arcturus asked with raised eyebrows. "That would have been a match I approved of," he added thoughtfully.

Harry remained silent and waited for the older man to continue. When he did speak it was not about Sirius or the McKinnon's however.

"You are ready for tomorrow?"

"Yes," Harry replied. "I have my portkeys and cloak ready and everything else I will need."

"Good. Remember, do not take stupid risks," Arcturus said pointing at the teen. "If it gets fucked up, then you use that portkey, understand?"

"I understand, sir," Harry answered genuinely knowing the older man was demonstrating a lot of trust in him.

Arcturus nodded, pointed his wand at Harry and muttered a sobering charm.

"You will need a clear head, drinking the night before is not wise," he lectured firmly. "Now get some sleep, tomorrow is your first real test in this war, show them what it is they are up against, Potter."

Harry stood, all signs of the drunken weariness he felt now absent. He nodded at the older man.

"I will, sir."

With that he left the room and made his way to his bed, tomorrow was going to be a long day for him, with much riding on his success.


	8. A French affair

**Chapter 8: A French Affair**

Sirius Black awoke with a pounding headache and feeling confused as to why he was asleep at the drawing room table. The taste of the alcohol he had consumed reminded him that he had drunk a considerable amount the night before. It was then that he saw the book left behind by his godson and the memories of the previous night came flooding back.

He remembered the promise he had given Harry and the vow that he had made to himself. He would not let him down. He removed his wand and summoned a hangover cure from the alcohol cabinet and downed the vial in one long gulp.

Harry was going after the rat today and Sirius knew he had work to do. Today was going to be nerve-wracking for the marauder and he planned on passing it productively. He made to leave the room to begin his day when he was cut short by a tapping on the window. Outside was a very bedraggled looking owl that he allowed entry and removed the roll of parchment attached to its leg. The owl then flew and perched on the back of one of the chairs clearly keen to rest itself. He unrolled the parchment and began to read.

_Padfoot,_

_I am sorry it has taken me so long to reply, things on the continent are much worse than I thought they would be. It seems the friends of our dark friend are much busier here than they are at home. I had a run in with Greyback and a few others but I managed to give them the slip and I am currently making my way home. Please pass on my condolences regarding our large friend and I will see you soon._

_Moony_

The relief Sirius felt having heard from his childhood friend was overwhelming, he allowed himself to release a deep breath knowing that the werewolf was ok.

He exited the room with the missive in hand, his thoughts with both his godson and the task he was attempting and the werewolf he held as his own brother.

(BREAK)

Harry found himself at the port of Dover waiting to board the ferry that would take him to Calais. Himself and Arcturus had decided that it would be best to travel using muggle transportation as to not raise any suspicions by using a portkey or unwarranted apparition. The December air on the coast of England was cold yet refreshing and the steady warm breath of the young man could clearly be seen leaving his body as he exhaled. Harry was grateful for the fact that he had learned warming charms and was using them liberally to maintain a level of comfort. He had forgone wearing a heavy coat or any other thick clothing that would weigh him down or encumber his movement, knowing he needed to be as light and loose as possible.

Not having a passport, he boarded the boat under his cloak and stood at the rear of the deck in a secluded corner. As the ferry left the port he watched as the coast drifted further away from him particularly focusing on the white cliffs that reminded him of a song he had heard his Aunt Petunia listen to on the radio. He was a young boy at the time but he still remembered the beauty of the song and the voice of the lady that was singing it. His entire world was on that small island he was now leaving and it truly hit him how small his home was. The world is a huge place and he had spent his entire on only a tiny fraction of it. It may be small, but to Harry, it was and would always be where his heart was.

He knew if he truly wanted to he could flee the coming war and see the rest of the world, spend the rest of his life drifting from place to place but he knew he would not be happy and the thought of the guilt of leaving his home in the hands of Riddle sickened him, shamed him even. He scowled at the thought and found himself distracted by the appearance of a man carrying a little girl who could not be any more than five years old.

"What are they Daddy?" she asked, pointing towards the retreating cliffs.

"They are the white cliffs of Dover, Ella," he explained. "When you see them coming closer, that's when you know you are going home."

The little girl stared at the cliffs in awe.

"They are really pretty, Daddy," she said in an innocent voice.

"They are," her father agreed. "Just like you" he said playfully swatting her on the nose with his finger, eliciting a giggle from the small child. "Now I think we should go back in, don't you? We don't want you catching a cold, do we?" he continued, raising an eyebrow at his daughter who giggled again.

"Yes, Daddy, because Mummy would be mad at you again like when turned all our clothes pink."

"One time you put a red sock in the wash and you pay for that mistake for the rest of your life," he grumbled to himself as he walked away to take his daughter back inside.

Harry smiled at the interaction between the two and was hit with a sudden realisation, an epiphany if you will.

Yes, he was fighting to avenge himself and the wrongs his family had suffered at the hands of Riddle and his followers, but he was fighting for something else. He was fighting for those that couldn't. He was fighting for the moments of innocence like the one he had just witnessed. He was fighting for the right for everyone to have children and bring them into a world that's was safe, a luxury he had not been given. He was fighting for those everyday rights that most took for granted and he was fighting for a future that he wanted for himself. A future that was not plagued by Dark Lords and a future where he could finally have the family he had always craved, a family he would do what was necessary to protect and ensure were happy. Harry Potter was not only fighting for his family passed but the family he was hoping was to come and all the other families who had the right to a life without a conflict and constant peril hanging over them.

He had feared that he would lose himself in the pursuit of vengeance the way his grandfather had and would lose his way if that vengeance was not attained. Harry realised that yes, he was very similar to his Grandfather, but he was his own man and had his own agenda, an agenda that was worth his life if he was to fail, something he refused to even consider.

He was dragged from his musings as the ferry arrived in Calais and he quickly exited the boat and headed towards the town to get some food. He had heard great things about the French pastries and was particularly keen to try them while he was here. He made his way into town and quickly found a small patisserie which he entered having smelled the inviting aroma coming from within. At the tinkle of the bell a young woman appeared from the back where she had clearly been baking as she was wiping flour from her hands with a small white towel.

"Bonjour, Madame," Harry greeted her. "Deux Croissant, s'il vous plait."

The woman looked him over critically before shaking her head and placing two of the pastries into a paper bag. "Your French, eet ees terrible," she declared handing the bag to Harry.

"Then it is just as well that I have other talents that more than make up for it," Harry replied not missing a beat and shot the woman a winning smile. "Merci," he added handing over some francs to the woman.

"Oui, eet ees just as well," she giggled amusedly.

Harry left the shop shaking his head in mirth. He checked the time and saw that he had around half an hour before he needed to catch his train so decided he would take a leisurely walk to the station.

His journey through the town was uneventful but he enjoyed it, nonetheless. He took in what seemed to be the usual hustle and bustle of the daily life here and found that it was tranquil in its own way. He enjoyed the architecture of the buildings, never having seen workmanship such as this in person. Before he knew it, he had arrived at the station still clutching the empty bag that his pastries had come in. He deposited it into a bin as he passed and made his way to the train he knew he had to catch. He removed his cloak that he had placed in his satchel and draped it over himself to hide him from view, it was now time for him to be focused on the task at hand.

He entered the train and found an empty compartment that he locked with a simple locking charm and placed a simple muggle-repelling ward on the door to ensure his privacy. At the allotted time, the train pulled away from the station and Harry settled down for the journey ahead, enjoying the passing scenery.

He had been travelling for around seven hours and it was no longer to possible to see the passing landscapes properly as darkness had begun to fall so he resigned himself to reading the book he had brought on potions with him to pass the remainder of the time. He had barely begun reading the page on Felix Felicis when he was distracted by bright jets of light of various colours that suddenly began in the distance outside the train. It was unmistakably spell fire and Harry could not help but marvel at the recklessness displayed by the French wizards using magic where muggles would pass through even though there were no buildings in sight. He shook his head at them and paused when he recognised the types of spells that were being fired. These spells were not friendly and were certainly dark in nature. He noticed the group dressed in dark cloaks were pursuing another consisting of several women who were fleeing. He saw the women had quickly been cornered by them and he growled in frustration, he knew he had to intervene, probably due to his saving people thing that Hermione was always referring to.

With a sigh of annoyance, he apparated out of the train to a line of trees that were behind and close to the group of people.

He appeared completely silently as planned and was immediately glad he had decided to investigate. The pursuers were all dressed in full Death Eater garb and had surrounded the women who were seemingly begging in French to be let go. The Death Eaters just laughed and Harry felt a rage boil inside him, but it was what happened next that really pushed him to his limits. He too had experienced such taunting and knew how the women felt only too well. He flicked his wand into his hand and took aim at the man and with another flick he sent three black arrows towards the men.

"CRUCIO," the Death Eater roared, hitting one of the women with the curse, much to the amusement of his seven companions, who laughed at his antics.

The woman screamed in agony and could do nothing but convulse under the onslaught of the spell. Every fibre of her body felt as though it was on fire and she immediately wished the man would just kill her and end the torture.

"That's it, scream you whore," the man shouted at the quivering heap of flesh beneath his curse. "My master…"

He was cut short, was suddenly gurgling and wearing an expression of pure shock as an arrow had entered his neck from the back and was protruding from the front through his throat, causing blood to leak profusely from the wound.

His companion to the right of him had fallen also, instantly silent as an arrow had found itself embedded in his skull and one sticking out of his chest that had gone through his spine and penetrated his heart.

Both groups turned towards the direction that the arrows had come, the women feeling hope and the Death Eaters furious that someone would have the gall to interrupt their activities. What they saw had them all shuddering as a shiver ran down their spines.

A tall, young and muscular man was stalking towards them with purpose. He was dressed in a dark grey hooded sweater with jeans and white trainers. It was not the obvious athleticism of the young man that had the Death Eaters shuddering, but the brightly glowing green eyes that could be seen clearly even in the fast approaching darkness. They could see he was a wizard by the unusual white and black wand that he held loosely in his right hand.

The women shuddered at the power that the young man was radiating. They could feel the magic and fury rolling off him in waves and found themselves worried for him, the impressive figure he cut notwithstanding. It was six against one, not the most favourable odds.

One of the Death Eaters stepped forward to intercept the newcomer.

"You should not have gotten involved, sonny," he shouted at the man who just kept walking towards them without hesitation. _"Avada Kedavra."_

The women screamed as the curse hurtled towards the young man who simply turned his head slightly to avoid the jet of green light that missed him by inches. He then flicked his wand towards his would be killer and the man was instantly hovering six feet in the air, his arms outstretched as though he had been placed on a crucifix.

His eyes narrowed and with a further flick of his wand, the Death Eater was screaming in agony as each of his limbs were ripped from the sockets, one after the other, the sound of cracking bones and the accompanying whimpering enough to set any and all on edge.

The rest of the Death Eaters were in awe at the use of magic the young wizard was demonstrating and knew he was no slouch with that unusual wand he had.

They snapped out of the stupor they found themselves in and all began firing curses simultaneously at the man knowing that it was there best chance to take him out quickly and not get hurt themselves.

The ambushed women watched in a mixture of horror and amazement as the young wizard moved with a speed and grace that none of them had ever witnessed, dodging the lethal curses and batting some aside as if they were nothing more than an inconvenience to him. It wasn't until another killing curse was fired at him that he retaliated with a spell of his own. He conjured a large, thick slab of granite in front of him that exploded as the curse impacted. In the blink of an eye, he had transfigured the airborne debris into a long javelin type projectile and banished it towards one of the men who quickly produced a shield.

The rod of granite whistled through the air, passed straight through the barrier and struck the man through the chest with a sickening crunch, the end impaling into the ground. They watched in morbid fascination as the body slid down the shaft under the weight of itself, the man screaming the full descent.

The young of the combatants then hissed something incoherent that had them shivering again and feeling uneasy. At his hiss, the ground beneath one of the men transformed into the head of a serpent which grabbed him in its maw up to the neck and simply held him there as he panicked and tried to escape its clutches, to no avail.

Their would-be saviour then sent a long stream of boiling liquid at one of the cloaked men who screamed in agony as his mask peeled away and seared the skin it had been concealing a blistered, red raw as it struck him. The young man adopted a look of deep concentration on his face and his eyes appeared to glow even brighter. With a sharp jab a thick bolt of lightning careened from his wand and hit the man, silencing him permanently and filling the air with the nauseating smell of burnt flesh that turned the stomachs of those bearing witness to the battle.

Undeterred by the affect his work had, he turned to the last two capable of fighting back who now seemed reluctant to engage him further. He fired a pink jagged spell that caught one of them on the side of his torso almost cleaving the man in two and he joined his comrades as nothing more than a bested heap on the floor.

He finally fired a bone breaker with incredible speed that ploughed into the man's neck, killing him instantly. He approached the last man that he had captured in the earth serpent and addressed him in a dangerous tone.

"Where is the rat?"

"Please," the captured man begged, "he was with us when we found them."

The young man turned and scanned the area with his still fury-filled and glowing eyes. He muttered a spell under his breath and growled in frustration when it did not yield the results he had hoped for.

"The coward obviously ran," he spat turning back to his prisoner.

He flicked his wand and hissed again, releasing the man from his bind.

"Wand," he commanded holding out his hand.

The other man reluctantly complied and handed it over, thinking it better than to protest as the younger man snapped it.

"Go," he instructed gesturing to the large wooded area behind them.

The Death Eater did not need telling twice he left quickly and made his way to the indicated area.

"You are letting 'im go?" one of the women asked incredulously.

The mystery wizard did not even turn to look at them when he replied, his eyes firmly on the hurriedly retreating man.

"He won't even make it to the trees." he explained knowingly.

With his proclamation the women turned to watch the fleeing man only to see him clutch his chest and fall to the ground just shy of the first line of trees.

The woman that had been under the Crucitaus turned to look at the young man who was now walking towards them. She steeled herself and allowed her eyes to meet his. They were still glowing but much more gently now and the look of fury had now been replaced by one of concern.

"Are you okay, Madame?" he asked softly. "I know from experience that that is awful, can you stand?" he enquired, offering her a hand to help her to her feet which she accepted gratefully.

She managed to stand but her legs were unsteady. She collapsed into the man's arms instantly and he simply scooped her up and carried her in them as though she was a child. She felt safe there and the pain seemed to ease now that she was off the ground. She couldn't move even if she wanted to and found that she in fact didn't. She lost all control as the horror of the evening settled in and she sobbed into the young wizard's chest. He pulled her closer to himself in a gentle, yet awkward embrace in what she knew was an attempt to comfort her.

The rest of the women watched how the young man who had just decimated eight other men without remorse had transformed into the gentle man they were now seeing. He no longer looked the terrifying killer he had only moments ago, he instead looked every bit the gentleman he was, despite the casual muggle attire he wore. They were all shaken from their individual thoughts by the man addressing them.

"We need to get her somewhere out of the cold," he said gently. "Which one of you live the closest?"

"She does," one of the women stuttered indicating her friend in his arms. "She leeves just over ze 'ill there" she explained pointing to a hill close by.

"Okay, lead the way," he requested.

(BREAK)

Peter Pettigrew was astounded at what he had witnessed and could only be grateful that he had fallen behind as his team had pursued the women, he was not built for running being as short and stout as he was.

He watched the unknown young wizard dispatch of his men as though they were nothing. Thy outnumbered him eight to one and he hadn't even been scratched. The magic he had seen was on par with that of his masters and he knew he would have to report what he had seen and what had happened to his Death Eaters.

He shuddered at the thought knowing that a punishment was coming his way. He had failed in his mission to capture the woman and he cursed the fallen men for playing too much and not taking their assignment seriously. He scurried away as a rat to inform his master as quickly as possible, knowing the longer he waited, the worse the punishment would be.

(BREAK)

Harry followed the seven women who were leading him while he continued to carry the final member of the group. He reflected on his performance and was content in the way he handled himself. He knew he could not allow any of the men to escape and report back to Riddle, he was not ready to come out in the open just yet.

"Why ees it you are carrying 'er and not using your wand?" one of the women questioned him suspiciously.

Harry was not fazed by the question and answered the woman who he doubted had been exposed to the curse.

"Madame, your friend was held under the Cruciatus curse, this way is much more comfortable for her as I can hold her and she won't be bumped around too much, and even the most mild exposure to foreign magic after the curse would be quite painful for her," he explained.

The other woman just nodded at his answer and questioned him further.

"'ow old are you?" she asked. "You look very young but your eyes look like zhey 'ave seen much, non?"

"More than you could ever know" he mumbled quietly so that even the woman who asked the question couldn't quite hear his reply. He grew weary of the questions and opted to remain silent despite seeing that the woman was waiting for an answer.

The woman persisted in trying to gain information.

"You are eenglish, non?" she asked to which Harry simply nodded but maintained his silence.

Seeing that the young man was not going to answer any more the woman stopped questioning him, not wanting to annoy the man.

It was only ten minutes later that the group emerged on the other side of the hill and Harry saw the house for the first time. Evidently, the woman came from an affluent family as it was more of a mansion than a house. The building was carved from white stone and had a high matching wall that enclosed the property within it. Despite its large size, the house looked very homely and inviting.

The seven women and Harry carrying the last made their way into the entrance hall of the house where one of the women called out frantically causing a man to appear shortly afterwards. He froze at the scene before looking a mixture of shocked and angry. He then began shouting at Harry in French, the teen understanding very little of what was being aimed his way.

The man was tall, broadly built and had a rugged appearance. He had short blonde hair that was carefully combed backwards and he had a goatee to complete his looks. He had icy blue eyes that were currently filled with both confusion and anger as he continued his tirade. Harry was not intimidated by the man however so he just stood and waited for him to finish his rant.

He was eventually cut off by one of the women who grabbed him to calm him down. He stilled his tirade and listened to what she was saying. Harry again found himself understanding very little of what was being but he knew she was explaining what had happened. The man's expression changed several times throughout the explanation from anger to fear back to anger and then sadness coupled with a rage that made him shake uncontrollably. He gave the woman some instructions and she left to carry them out. He then turned to Harry and gestured for him to follow, which he did, the other women in tow.

They entered a lavishly decorated parlour and the man gestured for Harry to place the woman he was carrying on a comfortable looking couch. Harry complied and as he placed the woman on the couch she moaned.

"It's ok now," Harry comforted her by taking her hand. "You're home."

"Zhank you", she replied weakly and attempted to give the teen a smile which came off as more a grimace.

The woman who had left to carry out the instructions the man had given her returned carrying a vial of what Harry recognised as a powerful pain relief potion. She assisted her friend in taking the concoction who sighed in relief and immediately begun to look better.

"You are eenglish, oui?" the man questioned Harry.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied still watching the woman who was quickly drifting off.

The man just nodded at Harry and led him to the adjoining room with the rest of the women. They were now in what Harry saw was a living room. The man gestured for Harry to take a seat which he gratefully accepted, he was feeling a little tired from the fight and carrying the man's wife.

"I am sorry for shouting at you, I saw my wife in zhat state and panicked," the man explained with genuine remorse.

"It's ok, sir," Harry replied. "I understand."

The man gave Harry a weak smile.

"It seems zhat I am een your debt, monsieur. "Name what eet ees you want and eef I can do eet, then eet will be done."

Harry just shook his head at the man before he replied.

"You owe me nothing, sir. I have been in that position before and did what was right."

The man looked dumbfounded as did the rest of the women in the room.

"Zhere is nuzzing zhat I can do for you?" he asked incredulously.

"No sir, I have more money than I could ever spend and the only thing I do want is something that can't be given," Harry replied a little sadly.

"And what ees eet zhat you want?"

Harry looked the man in the eye before he replied.

"Peace," he stated simply. He was aware that it was only peace that could give him everything else he wanted in life.

The rest of the occupants looked at each other clearly confused by the young man in the room. It took some time for them to think clearly enough to question the young boy further who was lost in his own thoughts.

"Eef I cannot reward you, can I please at least learn zhe name of zhe man zhat saved my wife?" the man asked. "She eez zhe most precious zhing to me" he added seeing the young mans' reluctance to answer.

Harry was trying to think fast so that he would not have to reveal his name, not wanting word to get out of his deed. He could see the rest of the room were looking at him expectantly waiting for an answer. He was on the verge of doing so when he was distracted by a young, blonde teen entering the room.

"Papa…" she froze when she saw the gathering of people in the room.

Her gaze eventually rested on Harry and she scowled gently. She walked towards him slowly, not taking her eyes off the young man who was now feeling uncomfortable. She drifted closer and looked him in the eyes, her own changing from a scowl to widening in recognition.

"'Arry?" she stuttered in shock before throwing herself in to his arms.

"You know zhis man?" one of the women questioned the girl raising her eyebrows.

"Of course I know 'im," the girl replied as if it was the most obvious thing the world and composing herself. "'e pulled me from ze bottom of zhat lake at 'ogwarts, 'e ees 'Arry Potter."

The rest of the people in the room looked at each other disbelievingly before one of the women addressed the young girl.

"Don't be seelly Gabrielle, 'Arry Potter ees just a leetle boy."

"Eet ees 'im," the girl replied heatedly. "I can feel eet, but 'e look different now and ees magic 'as changed."

The group looked at Harry critically before the man asked.

"Are you really 'im?"

Harry sighed in resignation and nodded reluctantly knowing it was useless trying to hide who he was. The people gathered in the room gasped.

"Prove eet," one of the women demanded with a frown.

Harry sighed again and shook his head.

"If Gabrielle is your daughter that would make Fleur your daughter also, we competed against each other in the triwizard tournament last year with Viktor Krum and Cedric Diggory," he offered.

Seeing that they weren't entirely convinced by his words, he stood and approached the man before raising his fringe, exposing his faded scar.

"It's mostly gone, but you can still see it."

The man swallowed deeply and nodded. That scar was renowned across the wizarding world.

"Eet is 'im," he declared.

The people in the room were truly shocked. It took several moments to pass before any of them were able to talk and it was Mr Delacour who broke the silence.

"But you can be no more zhan fifteen years old. And yet, you best eight fully grown weezards with ease."

"Eight unprepared cowards," he corrected, "none who had the brains to work as a team properly."

"'e deed what?" Gabrielle broke in shocked and a little angry.

Her father sighed and explained to his daughter what had happened. Upon hearing the explanation, she shot Harry a look that he could not quite decipher and she left the room.

"Monsieur Potter," Mr Delacour began. "You 'ave saved both of my daughters and now my wife, zhere is nuzzing I could ever do to repay zhat debt," he mumbled shaking his head.

"There is no debt to repay, sir" Harry said firmly. "Mostly I was in the right place at the right time."

The other man looked at Harry appraisingly before asking him.

"Ees eet true zhat 'e ees back?"

"Voldemort?" Harry asked causing those in the room to flinch and gasp.

"Oui," Mr Delacour replied.

"Yes, he is back. They were Death Eaters who attacked your wife and the rest of these ladies earlier," he explained to the man.

"Zhat explains much," the Frenchman mumbled angrily.

"It does?" Harry asked confused.

"Oui, eet does. Eet seems zhat zhey were goin to take my wife 'ostage so zhat zhey 'ad leverage to make sure we do not intervene."

At the confused look Harry was giving him, the man continued.

"You see Meester Potter I am zhe 'ead of magical law enforcement in France and 'e must know zhat I would not risk my wife for anything. 'e must 'ave known zhat eef 'e 'ad my wife, zhen I would stop zhe French from 'elping your country eef eet gets too much to 'andle."

Harry nodded in agreement at his logic. France was close to England after all and would be the next logical step for Riddle if his ambitions did indeed lay beyond Britain.

"Why are you 'ere Monsieur Potter?"

"I was looking for someone who was with the Death Eaters but he no doubt ran when he saw what I did to them," Harry replied bitterly.

"Sirius Black?" the man questioned. Seeing the look of confusion, the young man had. "Oui, I know all about 'im, your story ees famous even 'ere."

Harry shook his head.

"Sirius is innocent I was looking for Peter Pettigrew. It was him that handed my parents over to Voldemort," he corrected/

"Merde, your government are good at messing zhings up, non?"

"You have no idea, sir," Harry laughed humourlessly.

"Please, Monsieur Potter call me Jean. You 'ave earned zhat right" he said to the teen.

"Harry," the teen returned, offering his hand.

"'Arry eet ees" Jean said with a chuckle as he accepted the gesture.

Before the conversation could go any further Gabrielle returned with who Harry recognised as Fleur. The two teens were stood either side of their mother helping her into the room. They placed her carefully on the couch next to Jean and Fleur pulled Harry close to her chest.

"I am so glad zhat you are ok, 'Arry" she whispered. "And zhank you for saving Maman."

Harry wrapped his arms around her, ignoring the tingling feeling that had overcome him at being in such proximity to the powerful veela. His head had begun to feel light and her aroma almost intoxicating. He shook it to clear his mind of her unwitting presence.

"You are no longer a leetle boy" she said chuckling.

Harry joined in the laughter remembering the night his name had come out of the goblet and Fleur's preconceived impression of him.

"No, not so much," he conceded.

She placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, warming it considerably. The warmth remained even when she pulled away.

"Zhank you, 'Arry" she said, her cheeks tinged a slight pink, "really Zhank you."

"You're welcome, Fleur," Harry replied giving her a smile.

The people gathered in the room had watched what the young woman had done and the exchange between the two. Jean, who had been conversing with his wife was the first to compose himself.

"You are a very curious young man, 'Arry" he said shaking his head.

"Curious?" Harry asked with a frown knowing that curious was not usually a good thing.

"Yes, very" Jean replied. "You are een a room with eleven veela and yet, you are not affected, non?"

To the surprise of those in the room Harry suddenly burst out laughing and it took him quite some time to pull himself together.

"I'm sorry," he said to everyone. "It's just that I am considered missing at home and one of the rumours printed in the paper is that I exhausted myself at a veela conclave and died or lost track of time. This just reminded me of that, that's all."

Jean shook his head and laughed also while the women had flushed red and looked a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," Harry said sincerely to the women, "I did not mean to offend you."

"Non, Meester Potter, we are not offended," one of the women explained. "We do not hold such practices such as zhat anymore. We save ourselves for our mate."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"In answer to your question, I'm not immune to the allure. I feel it but it doesn't affect me as much as others. I can maintain my self-control."

"Zhen you are a very strong-willed man. I am ok with just my wife and daughters but 'ave to wear zhis when zhere are more around," he explained pulling a chain from beneath his shirt that was silver with a glowing purple pendant on it. "Eet is a charm created by zhe veela to help fight zhe allure."

Harry nodded at the man knowing that a charm like that would be very rare outside of a veela community.

"I think you need to put up more wards," Harry suddenly said realising that Riddle would not give up so easily if he really wanted to kidnap Jean's wife.

"Zhat was what I was just discussing with Apolline. Eet ees difficult as our magic ees different and most wards interfere with zhere magic," he said gesturing to the women.

"What about a Fidelius Charm?" Harry inquired.

Jean shook his head. "It would work but zhe property ees too big and I do not know anyone zhat can perform zhe charm," he said despondently.

"I can do it for you, if you trust me enough," Harry offered.

"Zhank you 'Arry but you have already done much for my family," Jean replied shaking his head. "I couldn't ask zhat of you."

If it will keep you all safe, then I will do it. It will give me peace of mind."

Jean shared a look with his wife and two daughters and nodded in resignation.

"Are you powerful enough?" he asked the young man.

"I think I can manage it."

"What is your most powerful spell you can control?" he asked further.

Harry was a little reluctant to answer but quickly remembered that most of the people had witnessed him kill 8 men this very evening.

"Fiendfyre" Harry said quietly causing all the women in the room to shudder which made Harry look at them in confusion.

"Eet ees zhe only fire zhat can 'urt us," Fleur explained.

"You 'ave complete control, oui?" Jean asked.

Harry nodded in reply.

"I would show you but your house would no longer be here in less than a few minutes."

The women shuddered again and Jean looked at him speculatively.

"What about a patronus? Eet is a good indicator of the power and control of a weezard" he said knowingly.

Harry understood what the man was asking so he flicked his wand into his hand and thought of the usual photo that he did when casting the spell. "Expecto Patronum," he said quietly causing his Thestral to erupt from his wand in the usual blinding light.

The room was silent as they all looked upon the patronus that the young man had conjured. It was Gabrielle that approached the near solid beast and raised a hand to touch it.

"Eet ees beautiful," she whispered "I can feel eet, eet is so warm."

Harry flicked his wand and the creature disappeared causing the rest of them to snap out of the respective reveries.

"Well, you are strong enough, if you are sure you can do eet." Jean stated.

"I don't see why not" Harry replied. "Who will be your secret keeper?"

"I will do it," Fleur insisted. "Your job ees risky Papa, eet should be me," she said to her father who looked as though he wanted to protest but nodded at her reasoning.

"Ok, stand still," Harry said to the woman. "And the rest of you just be calm, you will feel confused but you have to be calm."

He took a deep breath and began chanting the long incantation in Latin, waving his wand around Fleur in intricate patterns. The women could all feel the power coming from the young man and shuddered at it. It was not often such a spell could be witnessed being cast. After a short amount of time Fleur was enveloped in a bright blue glow and Harry could feel the drain on his magic. The occupants of the room stared around dumbly looking very lost.

"You have to write down the location of your house and show it to them," Harry instructed Fleur who complied by conjuring a quill, some ink and parchment. She wrote down the address of the house and passed it to her father who then read it and passed it around the room to the rest of the occupants. When it came to Harry, he passed it to Jean without reading it.

"I know where the house is because I performed the charm, but I will forget it when I leave," he reassured the man.

"Non 'Arry," Jean replied, "you are always welcome 'ere," he said firmly handing the parchment back to Harry who read it and handed it back with a nod.

The group sat in silence for a while until Harry broke it.

"Ok, I have to leave and go and break the bad news to a few people," he announced tiredly, the spell having drained most of his energy.

Jean stood and offered the young man his hand which Harry accepted and shook.

"Zhank you 'Arry for everyzhing," he said sincerely. "I cannot promise zhat my government will 'elp your country but I will come if you send me word and I will bring as much 'elp as I can when you need it, oui?"

"Thank you, Jean," Harry replied. "I may take you up on that offer, help is something I am short on at the moment and by the time the ministry pulls its head out of its arse it might be too late."

"You are a good man, 'Arry Potter and don't worry, I will have zhe mess you left out zhere cleaned up," he chuckled gesturing to the hill they had come down.

Apolline stood and took Harrys' face in her hands and gave him a kiss on the cheek that warmed it slightly.

"Zhank you, Monsieur Potter, for everzhing," she said simply and sat back down, still feeling the effects of the curse.

Gabrielle hugged him and placed a kiss on his other cheek and expressed the same sentiments as her mother.

"I will walk you out," Fleur offered and started to lead him to the door.

Harry turned to the group before leaving and addressed the rest of the women with a grin that would make Sirius proud.

"It was nice meeting you ladies. I must say, I am disappointed your conclave no longer practices those activities. What a way that would be to go," he finished with a sigh.

Jean roared with laughter and Harry found himself being dragged from the room by the back of his top by an annoyed Fleur.

"Did you 'ave to say zhat?" she asked heatedly. "Zhey will never shut up about eet."

Harry said nothing but laughed at the reaction he had gotten from everyone. He was glad they were parting on better terms than discussing the approaching war.

They soon reached the front door and Harry made to pass through but was stopped by Fleur who had grabbed him in a tight hug.

"Please be careful, 'Arry."

"I will try," he replied gently holding her by her shoulders and looking her in the eye.

She swallowed deeply, nodded at him and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

"Write to me when you can," she said making it sound more of a question than a request.

"I promise," Harry replied and he returned her kiss before turning and walking away. He had a surly old git and a reprobate godfather to give some bad news to, something he was not looking forward to doing.


End file.
